


This is a Mistake

by damagectrl



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, F/M, Gen, Other, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:20:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 61,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damagectrl/pseuds/damagectrl
Summary: No one could understand when their youngest, whom they practically raised, announced his engagement just as he was reaching the peak of his career.  This was a mistake.  Didn’t he learn anything from the success of his self-proclaimed guardians?  Marriage was a distraction.  There was no time for romantic relationships.And what was so good about the airheaded blonde who was seemingly duped by the very children she was a physical therapist to?  The four of them didn’t get it...until it was too late.This is the story of four men trying desperately not to fall in love and failing miserably.
Relationships: Aino Minako/Kunzite, Chiba Mamoru/Tsukino Usagi, Hino Rei/Jadeite, Kino Makoto/Nephrite, Mizuno Ami/Zoisite, Senshi/Shitennou
Comments: 86
Kudos: 197





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been nearly two decades since I last wrote a Sailormoon fanfic and as I'm stuck at home, I found myself giving into the urge to write a no-powers, romantic comedy, modern AU - which is, if I'm being honest, my thing. At any rate, because this is no powers, I had to assign the Shitennou human, Japanese names. Have fun figuring out who is who! 
> 
> Thank you all for reading; this was fun and nostalgic to write. <3

“Are you crying?” 

Takaishi Kouichi, aged 32, occupation Chief of Sales at Kuromi Industrial Group, twisted in his seat to turn away from the eyes of his friends as terror filled him. His light brown skin must’ve gone as pale as his hair as he reacted to the news. 

A man with long, wavy blond hair beside him reached over to try to give him a sympathetic pat on the back, but he shrugged him off. This was not how he saw dinner at their favorite okonomiyaki place going. 

He doubted they expected such a visceral reaction from him, the eldest, and in all honesty, he didn’t expect it from himself. 

However, he never saw Mamoru’s words coming. 

“I’m sorry, I think I heard you wrong,” Sanjouin Naozumi, age 30, owner of a Michelin starred pastiessere, leaned across the low table where they were grilling okonomiyaki and bore his blue eyes into the youngest of the group. His long, wavy brown hair was pulled into a manbun of sorts and he still wore his uniform from the bakery in his rush to get to dinner. “Can you repeat that?” 

Mamoru didn’t seem to notice the horror in their faces or the air of disbelief and denial over their booth. He kept his wide, love-sick smile on his face. “I’m getting married.”

Kouichi snatched the glass of beer from the table and threw his head back, downing the alcohol in a single motion before slamming the glass back. “Have you lost your mind?” 

Tears rimmed his eyes. He’d worked so hard...so  _ hard _ to ensure that Mamoru focus on his studies, get into a top level university, and become a rising star in the architectural world and just as the boy he practically raised neared a coveted partnership position, he was going to throw it all away for a woman. 

Naozumi lifted his hand to call over a server. “Another beer,” he said as a woman in a black apron scurried over and nodded before rushing off. “Kou, calm down. Let’s hear him out.”

“What is there to hear?” Kouichi took a deep breath to calm himself anyway. “Is now really the time to get married? When you’re so busy with your career?” Was there ever really a time to get married? He was fine staying a bachelor forever. 

“It’s not like he’s getting any younger.” Isono Zen, age 28, self-proclaimed fashion consultant to the stars and legitimate award winning designer leaned back against his arms and raised a brow. “But isn’t this a bit sudden? Didn’t you just land that project with Mitsubishi?” 

Mamoru tilted his head to the side and furrowed his brows. “What do you mean sudden? I’ve been dating Usako for over a year and a half. She was with me almost through my entire recovery.” 

Once more, Kouichi muffled his cry of dismay by clenching his jaw. The reason Mamoru had to recover to begin with was directly related to him. He got it into his head that for his thirtieth birthday, he would take the only family he knew: those four idiots, and spend five days skiing and snowboarding in Sapporo. 

Mamoru was consumed with a project at his firm, but Kouichi made such a big deal of it, Mamoru couldn’t decline the invitation. He subsequently got into an accident and broke his leg, requiring him to be airlifted to a hospital. 

When they were back in Tokyo, he ended up needing to take physical therapy to regain the strength in his leg. It was there that he met a bubbly blonde physical therapist-in-training named...something Usako? He couldn't remember. It had to do with a rabbit and a star or something. 

The point was that somehow, that woman seduced his precious youngest brother and had trapped him. 

Kouichi sucked in a sharp breath as the server returned with a beer and placed it on the table. “Don’t tell me she’s pregnant.” 

Mamoru spit out his drink and Zen reached over and slapped Kouichi’s shoulder hard. “What the hell, Kou!” 

“There must be a reason she’s trying to lock him down!” 

“Of course there is a reason: I love her!” Mamoru said, trying to wipe the beer dribble off his chin. As if noticing the glances from the other customers, he lowered his voice. “What’s with you? You said you liked her.”

“I said she was a ‘nice girl’,” Kouichi said, holding his hands in front of him as if to make a point. “I didn’t think you’d marry her.” 

“What do you think he was dating her for?” Naozumi asked, handing Mamoru another napkin from his side of the squared table before flipping over their okonomiyaki. Someone had to make sure the food didn’t burn while Kou lost his mind. “Someone to take to the movies?”

Kouichi shot him a glare. “None of us are married,” he said, as if stating the one reason Mamoru should not. 

“What kind of reasoning is that?” Zen said with a frown. “We’re all bachelors by choice. If Mamo-kun here wants to get married, that’s his choice.”

“I agree,” Naozumi’s low voice said as he held onto the metal spatulas. “No need to be so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic-”

“Ah! It’s Junya.” Zen cut him off and lifted his hand to get the attention of the server lady once more. “Auntie, can you put up the volume!”

The middle-aged woman bowed her head and went to turn up the volume on the flat screen mounted on the wall across from them. 

In the middle position of a trivia game show where various celebrities competed, Akashi Junya or ‘Jade’ as was his stage name, was wearing oversized star-shaped sunglasses, had his golden hair caked with gel, and wore flashy clothing that made Zen’s lip curl in distaste.

“Ugh...what is he wearing. Everything clashes.”

“I’m sure it’s for the show, Zen,” Naozumi said, paying more attention to their food than the television. 

“It better be.” 

Akashi Junya, age 27, occupation actor/model. He said he’d be late due to his schedule, but would try to make it. Kouichi knew the arrogant little bastard would agree that Mamoru was making some sort of mistake getting married. He just had to wait until he arrived. 

They watched the overdone version of their friend on the screen ring his buzzard and give ridiculous answers. Kouichi narrowed his eyes. 

“He just got his master’s degree and he said  _ the moon revolves around the sun _ ?” he said, his voice laced with irritation. 

Mamoru offered him a weak smile. “A master’s in psychology, not science.”

“Thanks for having such confidence in me.” A shadow fell over their table and Naozumi scooted further into the booth to allow a far more subdued dressed man to sit beside him. 

“Junya, you made it!” Mamoru’s face lit up. “I have big news!”

“Great, great...Auntie! Beer!” Junya removed his normal sized sunglasses to reveal tired eyes. His hair looked far less outrageous than it was on screen and he was back in nice slacks and a white shirt beneath a dark colored blazer. “Sorry, I’m late. The taping took longer than expected.”

“You don’t have to purposely lose every time, you know,” Naozumi said. He cut the okonomiyaki and began to distribute them in accordance to who liked what. “There’s no harm to letting people know you’re not a moron.” 

“Nah.” Junya brushed off the idea before thanking the server for his beer. “Everyone loves an idiot.” 

“Speaking of idiot,” Kouichi said, turning his attention to Mamoru. “Go ahead and tell him the news.”

Mamoru rolled his eyes before looking at the newcomer. Junya gave him an interested look as he brought his beer to his lips. “I’m getting married.”

“Pssttt!” The beer shot out of his mouth and sprayed across the table, dousing Kouichi. 

The eldest began to tremble in his seat as he growled. “Junya....” 

“Sorry!” Junya lifted his fist and pounded his chest to stop coughing. “I was just...surprised!” 

“How is this all that surprising?” Mamoru asked. He ate his meal and wrinkled his nose. “You know I’ve been dating her for a while.”

“Yeah, but...you know....” Junya seemed to avoid eye contact. “We just never seemed like the...marrying type.”

“See!” Kouichi threw his arms in the air. “That’s what I’m saying.”

“And I’m saying that just because we don’t seem that way, doesn’t mean Mamo-kun can’t get married,” Zen said, sending a glare to both him and Junya. 

“Would you get married?” Junya asked, pointedly. Zen faltered for just a second. 

“It’s not about me. It’s about Mamo-kun!” He snatched his beer off the table and chugged part of it down. “At the very least, we should be happy for him!” 

“That’s right,” Naozumi looked up from his meal and gave the youngest of their group a warm smile. “I’m sorry we haven’t said it yet, Mamoru, but congratulations.” 

A look of relief filled Mamoru’s face and Kouichi couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty. He may not have agreed or liked his girlfriend and thought the entire thing was a mistake, but he couldn’t stand to see Mamoru hurt. He was always such a good, obedient boy. Studying hard, wanting to please his make-shift family. 

Between the five of them, it was Mamoru who was orphaned at a young age, having lost his parents in a car accident during a storm. Kouichi and the others knew it must’ve stung, even a little, for Mamoru to see them with their families, no matter how broken. 

Kouichi’s father was a well-to-do business man whose wife, Kouichi’s mother, left him. His father refused to let her take him, but never did more than make sure he had food and shelter. It was more out of bitterness that he kept Kouichi than love. With no one at their condo, Kouichi spent much of his time next door at Mamoru’s. Whether he was trying to show he could be better than his father or not, Kouichi found himself trying to act as a guiding parental figure to the orphaned boy. 

Zen lived with his mother, the kept mistress of some politician, two floors down. The politician wasn’t Zen’s father and when he visited, Zen was kicked out. Kouichi took him in and did everything from help him study to make him food to kick his ass at video games. 

Junya lived on the top floor. His parents owned the building and left him with nannies. With no siblings or parents present, he was almost isolated outside of school. Kouichi found him in the lobby one day, dirty from a fight with other kids and afraid to go back to his condo for fear that his nannies would punish him for getting dirty...even if the other kids started it.

If it weren’t for Naozumi’s fully functioning and loving family, Kouichi was sure he and the others wouldn’t know what a healthy family was. The Sanjouin family were renowned chefs and bakers. Naozumi’s father ran the upscale restaurant on the first floor of the highrise they lived in. Naozumi, however, was an only child and even he had expectations placed on him to become just as successful as his parents. 

It was Kouichi who snapped him out of a rebellious phase and accepted that he genuinely did love baking. 

All four of them gathered around orphaned Mamoru and as far as they were concerned, they were brothers. Family. 

“Congratulations, Mamoru,” Junya said with a cheeky grin as he raised his glass. “Introduce me to her friends, okay?”

Mamoru let out a chuckle and Zen reached over and patted his shoulder. “Congratulations, Mamo-kun. I always knew you’d get married first.” 

“Thank you.” 

Then, several eyes turned to Kouichi, expectant. Naozumi frowned and opened his mouth, ready to scold him.

“Congrats,” Kouichi drawled out. “Let me know if there is anything I can do.” 

Eager to accept his well wishes, Mamoru’s face lit up once more. “Thank you. I wanted you all to know as soon as possible. Usako is still working out the details of the wedding, but I want you all to be there.”

“Of course we’ll be there.” Kouichi scoffed. As if he wouldn’t go to his own brother’s funeral-wedding.  _ Wedding _ . 

Mamoru looked pleased. “I’ll bring her next time we have dinner so you can get to know her better.”

The corner of Kouichi’s eye twitched, but he forced a smile on his face. “Great,” he said, grinding his teeth. “I can’t wait....” He lifted his hand once more. “Auntie! More beer!”

In between another round of okonomiyaki and an unaccounted for number of beers, Kouichi’s vision began to blur and Naozumi called it a night. 

“Do you need help getting him home?” Mamoru asked, his arms extending and retracting, as if unsure if he should help carry the larger man home or not. 

“We’ll get a cab and make sure he gets back to his apartment,” Zen said. “Don’t worry. You probably have a fiancée to call tonight.”

Color filled Mamoru’s face as he lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. “I had another thirty minutes before I said I’d call.” 

Zen chuckled. “Uh-huh. Good night, Mamo-kun. You guys, too.” 

Zen dragged Kouichi towards the street, opposite where the other three were walking. “How could my boy do this to me?” Kouichi slurred. 

He didn’t see Zen roll his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Getting married! How could he? He knows he still has a way to go before he gets to be a partner at the firm and he’s just going to lose it all. All of it! For what? Some...some woman!” 

“You’re not making any sense.”

“All his hard work will be for nothing!”

“Even if that were true, it’s hardly your decision.”

“I raised him!” 

“We know.” 

“I raised all of you!”

“Naozumi had normal parents.” 

“I’m losing my son!” Kouichi choked back a cry. They reached the street and Zen propped him up against a building so he could hail a cab. Kouichi swallowed hard. He reeked of okonomiyaki and alcohol. His once perfect, pressed designer suit was now wrinkled and his tie was shoved into his pocket. His usually groomed, long silver hair was down around his face. He felt miserable and could barely stand. 

How could this night get any worse?

“Oh my god....” A shocked sounding voice came from his left and he lifted his flushed face. Through his blurred vision he could make out a woman in a black skirt and mustard blazer with a white blouse coming out of a bar. He squinted. She had nice, long legs and a slim waist. Her fair hair was pulled back, out of her face, and it was long, brushing past her waist. 

She looked familiar. 

“Takaishi-san, is that you?” The disdain in her voice hit him and he tensed. He knew that voice...the way she spat out his name after a few clashes in meeting rooms. Of all the people he could run into that night, it had to be  _ her _ .

“Aino-san,” someone called behind her. “Is something wrong?” 

Large blue eyes blinked and narrowed at him. Before she could answer, Kouichi’s blurred vision darkened. He saw her move forward, a look of surprise taking over her glare as she outstretched her arms. 

“Takaishi-san!” 

He remembered hitting the ground, hard. Then, that was it.

* * *

He thanked whatever deities that were for giving him the good sense of having his atelier be appointment only. His high end workshop mainly did fashion consulting, but for those who could afford it, designed tailor made clothing rumored to make anyone stand out at the function they wore it to. 

_ Isono _ was where the celebrities and other public figures came when they needed the perfect outfit. 

Except today, he hoped that none came. He could design and do adjustments with a hangover, but deal with some entitled client? Not today.

He slid a keycard into a reader by the speaker and microphone of the doors to the atelier to let himself in. A yawn escaped his lips and he checked his watch. It wasn’t even that early. It was ten. He just had to go drinking with Kouichi, who was still lamenting Mamoru’s engagement, the night before. 

“Boss,” the receptionist stood up straight at the sight of Zen walking through the brightly lit floor dotted with private rooms for fittings and try-ons, as well as well placed displays of designs. “I’m glad you’re here. She came early.” 

Zen took off his sunglasses, hoping that his eyes weren’t as bloodshot as they were when he left his apartment. 

“Who came early? I don’t have any appointments today.”

“You don’t, but Mitsuki-san did. You’re covering for her, remember?” The slender young man seemed to give him a pleading look to acknowledge that he did, in fact, eagerly volunteer to take over his pregnant representative’s clients while she was on maternity leave two days earlier. 

Zen crinkled his eyes. Right. He had wanted to return her loyalty after she left Yamamoto, where he started off, to help him start up his own fashion house. He ran a hand down his face, refusing to be annoyed for doing the right thing. 

“Where are they?” 

“In the briefing room. It’s her first visit and I believe she’s just here to see if we have what she’s looking for.”

Zen snorted and gave the receptionist a dismissive wave of his hand. “What a waste of time. Whatever, I’ll see her. Bring her some tea and I’ll be in there in a sec.” He swept past the front counter and towards the back room, where his private studio and office were. 

He shrugged off his black coat and hung it up before checking himself out in the mirror clients stood in front of when he was doing adjustments. He lifted his hand and tightened the low ponytail at his nape before giving himself another round of approval for his stylish, yet daring look of the day. 

He walked to his desk and took his tablet off the top, unplugging it before taking one of many tablet pens scattered around his desk. He doubted the woman who arrived early would become an actual customer - most people balked when they heard his prices and fled, but he could at least pretend to take her seriously. 

Zen walked out of his office to the briefing room where they usually interacted with new clients. It was against one of the walls with a frosted glass wall facing the studio. There were flat screen monitors on the wall he could connect to in order to show clients prospective designs and the long table and dozen chairs surrounding it made it feel more like a meeting room than a creative space. 

“What’s her name?” Zen asked as the receptionist walked out of the briefing room with a metal tray in his arms. 

“Mizuno, sir.” 

He repeated the name under his breath. “Mizuno....” He lifted his hand and gave a slight knock on the frosted glass door before opening it. “Good morning, Mizuno-san. Thank you for taking time to visit us. I’m Isono Zen,” he said, hoping the name would hint at what an honor it was to meet with him. “How can I help you today?”

From across the table, a petite woman rose from her chair and clasped her hands in front of her lightly. She lowered her head and he watched thick, short blue hair fall around her heart-shaped face as she bowed in greeting. 

“Good morning, Isono-san.” She sounded polite and calm. As she straightened up, he caught sight of her large, blue eyes behind thin rimmed glasses. “I am Mizuno Ami. It is a pleasure to meet you.” 

Proper. 

That was the first thing that popped in his head. Usually, he noticed a client’s wardrobe first, but for this woman, her overall posture and graceful baring seemed to catch his attention. He narrowed his eyes as they swept over her. 

A white, cable knit sweater fit her well and ended at her high waist, just before the start of a knee length, cobalt A-line skirt. Her fall booties were black and her black and cobalt scarf and small black purse were placed on the table, beside a small tower of binders that held designs. 

She looked put together and proper...but average. She didn’t radiate wealth or have that certain energy celebrities had. He was sure she wouldn’t be back once she found out the price of his services. 

“It’s a pleasure, as well.” He kept his customer service smile on his face as he walked around the table. She took a small step back, as if surprised that he was coming so close. He pulled out a seat next to her. “Have a seat and we’ll get started.” 

She seemed to hesitate a bit before taking the seat she had been sitting in prior. Zen opened his tablet and prepared to ask her his usual set of questions to narrow down that she wanted.

“A friend of mine is getting married and I’ve been asked to assist in finding her a wedding dress.  _ Isono _ was highly recommended by her fiancé and insisted I make an appointment here to gather information.” She began to speak before he could even load his screen. He lifted his head and looked taken aback.

“A wedding dress?” he asked. That was rare. His company wasn’t known for wedding dresses; most clients didn’t even know he’d made some.

She gave him a small nod. “I do apologize. I researched your company and it seems that while you do bespoke clothing, wedding dresses are not something often designed or made. My research has shown that you’ve made only three and one of those was for a project while you were in design college.”

Zen lowered his pen, his customer service smile he was always proud to be able to use no matter how stubborn or frustrating a client, began to fade. This woman went that far back? Was he underestimating her?

“That’s true,” he said. “The other two were for an actress and the other for a long time client.”

“Then, before we get any further, would _ Isono _ be able to _ make  _ a wedding dress?” 

Right to the point. He respected that, but he needed to get right to the point himself.

“We can, but a bespoke wedding dress is not cheap. I’m afraid not everyone can afford my services.”

He must’ve sounded ruder than he thought as he caught her eyes narrow just a bit and the corner of her small, plump lips downturn. 

“While price does matter, Isono-san, I think my friend will be the judge of whether the dress is worth it or not.”

He smirked. “With all due respect, Mizuno-san, any dress by me is worth it.” 

“And with all due respect, Isono-san,” Ami said, lifting up her chin slightly. “You’d have to prove it.” 

His eyes widened. Was she challenging him? For a wedding dress? His lips curled up once more. “Simply asking me to design one is a financial commitment, Mizuno-san.” He lowered the tablet on the table. He wouldn’t be baited by some plain, average woman. He was done. 

“Your last wedding dress was 1.5 million yen,” Ami said. “That was when your brand had just opened this atelier. I’d say that now, after you’ve grown and increased in brand recognition and popularity, I’d cap it at two million.” 

“For the dress by itself. Just getting the design services is 300 to 400 thousand,” Zen said. It was clear this woman didn’t go into battle unprepared. “Of course, I would be designing it myself and to the bride’s tastes. I can assure you, it’s well worth it.” 

“400 thousand?” Ami remained sitting in her seat, but her frown seemed to turn into a confident look. “Only?” 

He sat up straight. What did she mean ‘only’? Did she have any idea how much money that was? Did her friend? Could her friend afford that much? 

Zen struggled to keep his shock out of his face and remain composed. “I see you don’t know much about the industry, Mizuno-san.”

“That’s true,” she said, too calm for his liking. “However, I can find out more. All I wanted to know is whether or not you’d be willing to make a wedding dress.”

“If the client is willing to pay the asking price, Mizuno-san, I can design and make her  _ anything _ to wear,” Zen said, holding out his hands and grinning. 

“That’s all I needed to know,” Ami said. She reached for her scarf and wrapped it around her neck before taking her purse. “To be clear, Isono-san, I only came here because my friend’s fiancé insisted. He is of the opinion that you’d make his bride, one of my closest and oldest friends, look like a queen on their wedding day.” 

Zen let out a little scoff. Of course he could, _ if he wanted _ . Ami rose to her feet and he followed in suit to walk her out. “And may I ask, what is your opinion of my atelier, Mizuno-san?” 

She paused as she adjusted her purse in the crook of her arm. She lifted her head and met his eyes. “In my opinion?” 

“Yes.”

“I think it’s overrated.” 

She might as well have punched him in the gut. Zen froze where he stood as she gave him a small bow of her head and walked around him, heading to the door. She was out on the studio floor by the time he shook himself out of his stupor and raced after her. 

“Thank you for coming, Mizuno-sensei!” His receptionist was standing by the door and bowing as the woman thanked him for his time and the ‘delicious tea’ before walking out without so much as a glance back at him. 

Zen stumbled to a stop. He narrowed his eyes as the door closed. “Did you call her ‘sensei’?”

The receptionist nodded, beaming a smile. “She gave me her business card. Mizuno-sensei is a doctor at the Tokyo University Hospital.” 

* * *

He paced the set, an old, historical building on the grounds of an old Japanese estate. The wooden floorboards of the walkway just outside the open shoji screens creaked beneath his feet as he repeated his lines over and over in his head. He was playing a love interest that would eventually be looked over and leave for America. 

This drama was his fifth. He was experienced enough to not be nervous and go about it as a regular job, however, this particular drama shoot had been a nightmare, mainly due to the fact that the lead actress, considered a veteran having been a child actress, was in the midst of a messy divorce that was impacting her work. 

Of course, with such a famous actress in this new drama, no one wanted to mention that her stress and frustration with her divorce was affecting her work and slowing down production. 

“I’ll sign his stupid agreement! Have his lawyer bring it to my set by the end of the day or I won’t hand over the Ginza apartment!” Her screeching carried over from her dressing room; a room further back in the old Japanese-style house where they would be filming.

Junya could see several crew members give each other knowing looks, as if to acknowledge that their lead actress was going to be more difficult to work with than normal the rest of the day. 

Junya himself knew what that meant for him.

“Jade-san.” The producer was speed walking towards him and Junya’s blue-gray eyes darted around for a possible escape route. “There you are!” Oh no, it was too late. 

“Kumazaki-san, were you looking for me?” He fixed his cheeky, easy going smile on his face; the one that seemed to make people feel most comfortable around him. 

“Yes, I’m afraid that Abe Hana-san is not in the...best of moods.”

“Shimura-san!” The said actress’ yell pierced the air, making people close to her wince as she screamed for her manager. 

“I...caught that,” Junya said, trying to subdue his own cringe. “Ah, but you know, she is having a difficult time right now,” he added. 

The producer’s eyes brightened and he nodded, earnest. “Yes, yes! I know she’s making it difficult for everyone to work, but she seems to have taken a liking to you, so-”

“Jade-kun!” Her voice was now a far cry from the angry and frustrated yelling she had been doing just a second ago. A pretty woman with layered brown hair seemed to bounce into the open room, smiling and fluttering her eyes at him. She sounded far too sweet for his taste. “Jade-kun, there you are! I’m sorry you have to wait so long!”

The producer seemed ignored as the actress swept in and solidified her spot beside Junya by grabbing on his right arm and siding her body against him. She tilted her head up and gave him a small pout. 

His own smile did not falter for a second. “It’s no problem, at all, Abe-san.”

She puffed out her cheeks and he took a moment to remind himself that while she acted young with him, she was two years older and was a far more grizzled actor. “Hana-chan,” she said, correcting him. 

He let out a mixture of a low breath and laugh to make his words sound as inoffensive as possible. “I wouldn’t dare call my more experienced senpai so informally,” he said. “Abe-san is carrying this drama. I’m just a pretty face in the background.”

“Aww...” She lifted a hand and placed it against his chest. “So modest...but that’s part of your charm, isn’t it?” 

He laughed and looked around the set. Everyone seemed to be avoiding his eyes and it was clear that no one was going to step him and save him. He looked towards the producer, who seemed to plead with him in silence to put up with their temperamental actress. 

The director was going over positions of a camera and the lead actor, the one who played the main love interest, was smoking as far away from them as possible. Maybe it was because he was older and happily married that the actress didn’t cling to him as she did Junya. In fact, she treated the lead actor as if his presence were an annoyance whenever the camera wasn’t rolling. 

He felt a pair of soft breasts against his arm and tried not to jerked his hand away in disgust. It wasn’t that he didn’t like breasts. He just didn’t like them pressed against him in an effort to use him as a distraction, especially without his consent. As much as he played the part to be more likeable in his industry, he wasn’t just a flirty pretty boy who went around breaking hearts. 

Auntie Saori, Naozumi’s mother, made it clear that they were to respect women and Uncle Nori, Naozumi’s father, showed that a loving and respectful partnership based on trust was instrumental in a relationship. Even though Junya had no plans to marry, he wouldn’t simply live his life frivolously, as his looks suggested. 

As such, he tried to get out of the actress’ death grip. Before he could think of a solution, Shimura, the actress’ manager, seemed to appear. The meek woman in a brown pants suit tried to get her attention. 

“Abe-san. Abe-san,” Shimura said, lifting her hand. 

“What?” Hana snapped her head around to face the demure manager, sending her two paces back. 

“Abe-san, the lawyer from Takamura-san’s office is here.” 

Even Junya’s presence couldn’t seem to keep the sour mood from returning. Her grip loosened and he took the opportunity to pull his hand away. Before he could make a run to hide elsewhere in the house, he caught sight of her. 

“Well, where are they?” Hana demanded, irate. 

Junya’s words left his mouth before he could stop them. “I think that’s her.” 

It was as if he were watching the woman approach in slow motion. Long, straight black hair shone in the sunlight against pale skin and flowed behind her with each even step. Sharp, dark eyes seemed to peirce the air around her as she walked across the gravel ground surrounding the old house with seemingly practiced grace, he almost didn’t notice her legs ended with pointed, blood red heels. 

Dressed in a black dress suit with a dark red blouse, a pair designer pair of sunglasses atop her head, she strode through the set with an air of elegance that commanded attention. This woman wasn’t pretty, like Hana. Hana was cute, modern, and played up her initial impression of being a sweetheart. 

But  _ this _ woman was  _ beautiful _ . This woman was elegant, sophisticated, and kind of intimidated him. Junya swallowed hard, staring at her even as Hana stood between them. 

How did he know she was the lawyer? A dark brown leather folio under her arm. 

“Abe Hana-san?” the woman asked as she reached them. “My name is Hino Rei, I work at the Takamura Office.” She held the folio in front of her as she bowed her head. “I’ve the documents from Kishiishi-san for you to sign.” 

“Good.” Hana’s voice was cold. “I can’t wait to sign them and get him out of my hair.”

Rei stood up straight and opened the folio. “Is there a place where they can be signed?” 

“Ah, this way, Hino-san,” Shimura said, ushering them towards the building. “You can use the table in here.” 

“Thank you.” She gave Shimura a small bow and Shimura looked weak as her face reddened. 

Junya heard a low growl escape Hana’s throat and stood to the side as they headed inside. 

“Is she the lawyer representing Abe-san’s ex-husband?” He overheard one of the sound guys talking. “No wonder she’s so angry.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Kishiishi-san got involved with her.”

Junya resisted the urge to shoot them a glare. 

The signing only took a moment and after two or three minutes, Rei and the other two women emerged from the building. Rei bowed once more, thanking them for their time, before turning around and heading towards that gate that led outside. 

Junya felt his chest tighten as she walked past. He furrowed his brows. That was surprising; he expected her to smell of expensive perfume. Instead, she smelled of incense. He followed her with his eyes, watching her disappear through the gate. He didn’t know how long he was staring until he felt a strong tug on his arm. 

“Yes?” He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Hana frowning at his side, her hands on his forearm. “Abe-san?”

“Hana-chan,” she said once more. “Did you hear what I was saying?” 

He did not and he didn’t want to. Junya pulled his arm away and made a show of looking at his smart watch. 

“Sorry, I just got a text that I need to answer.” He threw his sweet, playful smile at her. He was relieved when the slight annoyance on her face disappeared. “I’ll be back!” He took a few steps backwards before turning around and heading to the gate. As soon as he was sure he was out of view from the rest of the cast and crew, he ran down the dirt path leading to the street. 

He could see the lawyer walking ahead of him with the swift footsteps of a person on a mission. 

“Excuse me! Hino-san!” 

Part of him expected her to keep walking, but he was pleasantly surprised when she stopped and turned around. She gave him a small nod of her head to acknowledge him. 

“Yes, sir, can I help you?” She sounded so professional and he...didn’t know what to say. 

He stopped in front of her, his mouth open and ready to speak, but he didn’t have any words. His mind screamed. Why didn’t he have any words? Why did he go after her if he didn’t know what to say? 

Worse yet, why did he go after her in the first place? 

Her sharp eyes narrowed. “Sir?” she asked. “Can I help you?” She repeated her words more slowly and he wracked his head for something charming to say. 

“I’m Jade.” His mind continued to scream in protest. That was it? That was the best he could do? He built a persona for himself as a flirty pretty boy and that was all he could say? 

She drew her head back and seemed to look at him suspiciously. “Hino Rei,” she said. “The Takamura Office.” 

“Right! You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” Step one, ask about their occupation. It was the easiest gateway into a conversation. 

“Yes, I’m typically in the family law division, but a colleague was unable to come to have Abe-san sign these papers.” 

“Oh, wow...family law. That’s impressive. Is it in the family?” Step two, ask about her family, look for any commonalities.

She gave him an uncertain look. “No, I grew up in a shrine.”

Immediately, the image of her in the classic red and white robes of a Shinto miko filled his head and Junya lifted his hand to his face to cover his sudden flush at the thought. It was such a fitting image of her. 

He needed to find out more and gave her that same, playful open smile he gave Hana. “That’s amazing! What did you do-”

“Jade-san,” she said, cutting him off with a droll voice. Her eyes seemed unimpressed. “I have to get back to work. These papers need to be filed and I’m expected back soon.”

Of course she was busy. He nodded his head and lifted his hands. “I’m sorry, Hino-san, I just....” A small voice in the back of his head, one that sounded like an exasperated Kouichi, told him to just ‘do it’. He took a deep breath and shoved down the nervousness he didn’t expect he’d have in this situation. “I was wondering if I could possibly get your email?” 

She didn’t seem at all fazed. “Of course.” 

His eyes went wide as she reached for her folio once more. She was really going to give it to him? Was it that easy?

With her folio tucked under one arm, she presented him with a small white card. “We do trusts and wills, as well.” 

His giddiness crashed to a halt. He looked down at the card. It was her business card. She thought he was asking about her law office. Uncertain about what else to do, Junya lifted his hands and took the business card. 

“Th...thank you,” he said. Why did he feel humiliated? It wasn’t as if she actually rejected him. 

She gave him another bow of her head. “You’re welcome.” She lifted her hand and lowered her sunglasses over her face. She turned around and began to walk away. “And to be clear, Jade-san, that email is for professional services.” It almost sounded like a warning. “ _ Only  _ professional services.” 

_ Ah _ , he thought to himself as he stood on the dirt walkway, watching her disappear around a corner of trees.  _ Now _ he was rejected. 

* * *

He decided and would call Mamoru that night to offer his services as part of his wedding present. He knew that it would be Mamoru’s fiancée who’d have the final say, but he was confident that the young lady his brother loved so much who happily pick his bakery for the cake and desserts at the wedding reception. After all, he did have Michelin stars. 

However, Naozumi had never made an actual wedding cake before. He’d made pastries for special events, such as fundraisers, charity galas, parties for famous people and the like, but an actual tiered cake wasn’t something he’d done since he was learning. He supposed he could ask his mother; she was the one who taught him everything he knew. He chuckled to himself as he finished cleaning the counter. 

His mother would be over the moon to find out Mamoru was getting married. His amusement was short-lived. Mamoru was younger than him and once his mother found out that Mamoru was getting married, his mother would get on him to do the same. 

Naozumi tossed the towel he was using to clean in the kitchen into a bucket with other towels. He leaned over the counter and sighed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get married...he just didn’t have the time. 

Kouichi was the one who vehemently insisted on remaining a bachelor and considering how his homelife was when they were younger, Naozumi couldn’t blame him. He didn’t see marriage that way others saw it. It was just a source of misery for Kouichi and something that would get in the way of the stability he craved and tried to give to the others.

Zen never seemed to give it much thought . He’d always been extremely focused on his interests and career, everyone assumed he’d just live for his passion and work. In addition, Naozumi always felt that Zen purposely ignored women as the result of his mother pushing him aside when he was a child. 

As for Junya, Naozumi was sure he simply hadn’t found ‘the one’ yet. Once Junya set his sights on something, he was driven. And when he did find ‘the one’, Junya was guaranteed to shower them with love and attention; to never do to them what his parents did to him. 

And for himself, he may have been a strange combination of the three. A relationship would take his time and attention from A Taste of the Heavens, his much praised bakery. He also was often consumed in his passion and it did worry him that this would lead to him ignoring a partner. He couldn’t do that to someone he cared about. 

So for now, it seemed that he would just continue to be single. It wasn’t as if he was in a rush or had found his own ‘the one’ yet. 

“Sanjouin-san.” The door to the kitchen opened and one of clerks at the front counter stuck his head in. “There is a guest who has a question about a custom order.”

He checked his watch. It was close to closing, but he had time. “I’ll be right out,” he said. 

He went to wash his hands and made sure to straight out his white uniform before walking out into the bakery. The bakery was rather large with an open seating area and long ‘u’ shaped glass display counters that showcased various pastries and baked goods. They were nearly cleaned out for the night, but a few guests were still going down the line that followed the display, leading to the payment counter.

“Where are they?” he asked as he moved to untie his hair. It was long and wavy, but he kept it meticulous. Kouichi always had long hair and somewhere along the line, both he and Zen wanted to be like him and grew their out. It was only Junya who looked at the whole thing and rejected it.

“You look stupid.” Such cold words from the then thirteen year old. Junya had turned to impressionable Mamoru and told him: “You don’t need to grow your hair out. It’s fine as it is, got it?” 

Naozumi recalled that Kouichi was so stunned by the rejection of his hair then that he went out and had it cut...however, short silver hair only made him look like an old man and he vowed never to cut it again. 

“She’s the young lady by the window, with the parfait,” the clerk at the counter told him as he passed. Naozumi gave him a nod of thanks and tried to dial back the amusement from his memory. 

Poor Kouichi, who loved and held his brothers in such high esteem that the mere criticism of his hair devastated him for two days. Mamoru had noticed and made Junya apologize, but, Kouichi still never cut his hair short again. 

Naozumi walked around the various tables that were placed in the wide seating area of his bakery. It was common for those who picked up pastries to also order something to drink at the counter and then have it served to them at their table. That late in the evening, there were only a few patrons left.

Amongst them was a young woman sitting at a circular table by the front window. Her parfait was partially finished and she seemed distracted looking at the window. She was wearing black pants and a white blouse; her brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail and an evergreen coat hung on the back of her chair.

Naozumi approached and bent down a bit to get her attention.

“Excuse me, miss, I was told that you had an inquiry about a custom order?” 

She turned around and met his eyes with large green ones and a welcoming smile. “Yes, thank you for taking time. I know how busy A Taste of the Heavens is.” She pushed her chair back and stood up. He raised a brow: she was tall and stately. His hand moved up to his chest as she gave him a bow to greet him. “Kino Makoto.”

He gave himself a little shake to pull himself out of his thoughts. Granted, he didn’t meet women who looked like her everyday, but just because his heart suddenly jumped at the sight of her didn’t mean anything in particular. A beautiful woman was a beautiful woman. 

“Sanjouin Naozumi. I’m the owner.”

“I know.” She smiled and he had to force his hand from gripping his chest. “I’m a huge fan of your work. My friends and I waited in line for two hours when this place opened just to try the crepe cakes. Totally worth it!” 

He could see her smile reach her eyes, a sign that even though it was such a long wait, it was still a fond memory. His shoulders relaxed and he motioned for her to take her seat. “Please, have a seat. What can I help you with?”

He pulled out the chair across from her and took a seat. She looked excited. “I wanted to ask you about wedding cakes.” 

His heart sank. A wedding cake? Was she getting married? An unexpected ache filled his chest. He fought back the ache and tried to focus on his customer. 

“We certainly make them, although not often. They do have to be special ordered. What did you have in mind?” 

Her face was bright and flushed and he could only assume it was because she was excited to talk about her dream wedding cake. 

“We had this idea of a three tiered cake, white and silver with candy roses. It’s just a centerpiece of course; we’d also like to serve various other smaller desserts at the reception.” He couldn’t stop looking at her eyes. They sparkled as she spoke.

“Smaller desserts...of course....” He forced a smile on his face. “The bride must have a sweet tooth.”

She tossed her head back and laughed; deep and throaty, but sincere. “You can say that again!” she said. “Trust me, I‘d know that better than anyone.” 

“Will our existing pastries work for the smaller dessert options?”

“Yes, we have a few in mind already. It’s mainly the cake we’re concerned about,” she said. She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “We also understand that this bakery is in high demand and wanted to confirm availability.”

“Of course.” He nodded. “Is there a date selected?”  
“It won’t be until May. We’re still waiting for the finalized date, but I’ll get that to you, soon,” Makoto said. “Is that time frame available?”

“This far out, yes,” he said. It was the truth. While it was common for large events with massive or elaborate orders to put in an order months ahead of time, they were still far out in terms of time. “I’ll make a note of it.”

She nodded with approval. Her look turned serious. “Now, in terms of pricing....?”

He blinked. “Oh...let’s see...the cake itself, if three teirs isn’t so much. It’s more the detail work of the candy flowers. Then are the separate smaller desserts. We do have a bulk rate. Usually for two dozen of a similar kind, but as we’re doing the wedding cake, as well, we can apply the rate to different pastries.”

She clasped her hands together, looking pleased. “That sounds wonderful. And the delivery fee?”

“I tend to include that with the cake,” he said. “Do you know what flavors?”

She pulled out her phone and began to read off from a list. Naozumi called for a notepad and scribbled down what she wanted. It surprised him that she asked about various details from how it would be presented, if they did set up and clean up, as well as how long it would take to deliver to the venue and if they needed to do any preparation work before. 

“You’re quite prepared with your questions,” he said, smiling slightly. He hoped this would be a sign that she would be easy to work with. Anyone in the industry always dreaded working with an entitled customer or just as worse, one who was too laid back and didn’t seem to care. 

Makoto laughed once more and finished the last of her parfait. “They’re standard things to keep in mind. I often have to cover them myself.”

He looked up from his notepad. “You’re a chef?”

She gave him a small nod and turned to fish through one of her coat pockets. She took out her wallet and removed a pastel pink card with a red rose and green vines framing it. Smiling proud, she handed it to him. 

His eyes widened. “Red Rose Catering?” He’d heard the name pop up recently with some of his returning customers. Since his bakery only did pastries, they often went to other restaurants and services for regular food and drink. Red Rose Catering was said to be growing more and more popular since it was started four years ago and it was difficult to reserve a date.

She nodded. “Yes, I’m the head chef. It’s my company.” 

He looked impressed and nodded. “I’ve heard good things about it.” 

“Really? We’ve only been around a few years.” She looked relieved. “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve worked so hard...ah, I’m sure you of all people know how hard it is.”

He did know and for all his success, it was still rare that someone acknowledged his hard work. It was always as if he had some magic talent he inherited from his parents. He smiled softly.

“Hard work, but worth it, right?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled up as she smiled. “Right.” 

“Sanjouin-san,” a voice said behind him. He looked up and turned around. The lights over the counter had been turned off and most of the eating area was dimmed; the tables cleaned and chairs piled up for the night. He sat up straight in his chair. How long were they talking? And why hadn’t he noticed his staff closing around him? “Is there anything else I can do before I and Harada-san leave?” 

“I’m sorry, Takeda.” Naozumi shot up from his chair and looked around, running his hand through his hair. He’d been so caught up talking with Makoto about the cake. “I’ll take care of this the rest. You and Harada go home. Thank you for your hard work today.”

The clerk smiled and bowed. “Thank you for your hard work today,” he said, as well. 

“That should be my cue to leave.” Naozumi turned around as Makoto rose from her seat. She still wore a pleased smile on her face as she reached for her coat. “I’m sorry to have taken so much of your time.”

“No, no, not at all. This was....” Fun? Relaxing? “Productive.” Nice save. Naozumi stepped back and gave her a bow. “I appreciate your time. I’ll go through the list we discussed and get back to you with a formal quote.”

“Wonderful, I look forward to it.” She slung a bag over her shoulder. “You have my number.” 

“Yes, of course.”

“Please feel free to call me at any time,” she said. She took a step closer and he could catch the fading scent of roses. Her eyes met his as she walked around him. “ _ Any time _ .” He listened to the clicks of her heels as she walked towards the glass doors. He turned around and watched her walk out into the street light lit boulevard.

Naozumi took a deep breath, lifting his hand to his chest once more. Was it his imagination or did she sound...flirty? 

He shook his head. No, it was his imagination. He had to think about the situation rationally: she was there to talk about a wedding cake and was getting married. How could he think such a thing? He looked down at her empty parfait glass and let out a heavy breath. 

He picked it up and headed back to the kitchen to wash it before he locked up for the night. He couldn’t over think her kindness. She was merely assuring him it would be no trouble to call her. However, a small, selfish part of him did have some hope that at the very least, she liked him.

He sprayed the parfait glass with water. 

“Get your head out of the gutter. You’re not going to cheat with an engaged woman. You’re not a monster,” he told himself firmly. Yet, even as he said it, he played with the thought  _ ‘what if she wasn’t _ ’. 

He groaned as he placed the cleaned cup on the rack. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as easy to work with her as he’d hoped.

* * *

“Really? He said he’d take it?” Usagi perked up on the sofa, where she had been curled against him watching an action comedy. Mamoru was up, washing their plates from their snacks as they took a break for Usagi to answer a text from Makoto. “Oh...so we don’t know how much yet?” 

He glanced up, over the counter and towards the sofa. He could’ve sworn her hair buns deflated. 

“Okay...okay, I’ll wait,” Usagi said. “I know...there are others, but I’m hoping. Okay. Thanks, Mako-chan!” 

“Everything okay?” Mamoru asked, pretending he hadn’t heard her sound disappointed. 

“Yes!” Usagi turned around on the sofa to face him. “Mako-chan was able to talk with the famous baker and he said he can do it.” Her expression darkened a bit. “But...we don’t know about the final cost, yet, so it will kind of depend on that.”

He wiped his hands on a dish towel before walking out to the living room. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t worry about money.” He was dead set on giving her the wedding of her dreams before he even proposed. 

“I know,” Usagi said in a quiet voice. “But I don’t want to waste money. Everyone works hard for it. I’d like to at least be able to buy my own cake.”

His expression softened. He took a seat beside her on the sofa and gathered her against him once more. “Usako, if you want I can talk to my friend. Nao-chan is a really good baker. I’m sure he can help us out with any kind of cake you want.”

Usagi shook her head. “I want to take care of it.”

He chuckled a bit as her grip around his body tightened. “Then what about the dress? I can call Zen-chan-”

“Ah...about that,” Usagi looked away, almost appearing sheepish. “Ami-chan went to that boutique you recommended....”

Mamoru smiled. He knew he could count on attentive Ami. “Zen-chan’s store? Great, what did she think? You haven’t had a chance to go with your work schedule and it’s by Ami-san’s place, isn’t it? You said she’d go for you?”

Usagi chewed on her lower lip, still avoiding his eyes. “She did....”

He cocked his head to the side. “And...?” he urged.

“She had... _ words _ to say....” He knew where this was going, both from how Usagi hated giving negative news and knowing how Zen could be. Usagi put on a reassuring smile. “I’m sure we can find a dress elsewhere, Mamo-chan!  _ Isono _ is far too fancy for me, anyway!”

Part of him knew he’d have to apologize to Ami in the near future. 

He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Okay,” he agreed. He squeezed her against him. “If that’s what you want.” He kissed the top of her head and she nuzzled the crook of his neck. 

“Umm-hmm...it’ll be more fun to go with my friends, anyway. Minako-chan and Rei-chan are are clearing up some room in their schedule to fit with Ami-chan and Mako-chan’s so we can all go out to look for dresses,” Usagi said, content as she closed her eyes. 

It was a relief to hear that, as Rei, who often teased and butted heads with Usagi, was the most protective of Usagi’s friends. In fact, she did not like Mamoru for some time. He hoped that this meant she approved of him. Minako was on the opposite end of the spectrum. When they met, she gave him a once over and nodded, giving him her approval there, but making it clear that he was to treat Usagi with the utmost care.

He heard low, even breathing coming from beneath his head and glanced down. He smiled as he stroked the golden hair of the woman sleeping against him. He reached for the remote to turn off the television.

Chiba Mamoru, age 26. Occupation: industrial architect...and madly in love.


	2. Chapter 2

Why the board wanted to change their advertising agency was beyond him. There was nothing wrong with the previous agency. Granted, the last several campaigns of numerous of Kuromi’s products and their releases didn’t do too well at market. A good portion of their usual customer base even reported that they didn’t even know a product was released.

After three failures, it was time to look to another agency. That in itself wasn’t a problem. Kouichi understood that it was business and a necessity to look for a partner that would work well with them and meet their needs. 

He only wished that the representative he was now forced to work with from the Lunar Agency wasn’t stubborn, arrogant, and so utterly stuck in her ways. Everytime he shot an idea her way, it was shot down. He was the one with more experience here and from the gossip he’d unwillingly learned about her, he had more experience by a good amount. 

For one thing, he was a good several years older. He was already approving advertisement plans when she was still studying to get into a decent high school. Yet that didn’t seem to phase the self assured blonde woman one bit. 

“Aino-san worked really hard on the Sunrise shampoo ads that came out this summer.” One of his colleagues was gushing as they left the meeting. “Sunrise’s sales went up and they had significant market growth.”

“That’s just what we need after the old advertising firm.” Kouichi tried not to frown. Even his boss seemed to be a fan of the young woman. “She’s already provided us with a roadmap and preliminary market studies.” 

“Yes, usually we have to wait weeks for those.”

“They’re still trying to secure an account with us,” Kouichi said, looking straight ahead. He just wanted to get back to his desk, finish his work, and forget all about their last meeting. “This product is a trail run with them.”

“That’s true, but if it’s at this level of service continuously, as well as shows increased market penetration, they have a good chance at securing us,” his colleague said. 

A throaty laugh came from his boss ahead of him. “I think Takaishi-kun is just annoyed at the sudden change. The way the Lunar Agency does their timelines for a project are different from what he’s used to.”

Kouichi tried not to scowl. “I just think that they’re not giving us enough time. The timeline they presented us is too fast.”

“It needs to be fast,” his boss said. “We can’t lag in this market and the sooner we can expose the market to our product, the more time they will have to become familiar with it and not lose out against competitors.”

“It feels rushed.”

“Just give it a chance, Takaishi,” his boss said, sighing. Kouichi didn’t say anything more, but he would surely complain about this at his next dinner with the boys. 

“I’m going to go to the vending machine.” He needed a coffee. Bad. He veered to the left to head up another corridor to get to the lunch area where there were a few choice vending machines. He dug into his pockets for some coins as he rounded the corner and heard one of the machines dropping a can.

He looked up and stopped in his tracks.

Just his luck. The last person he wanted to see: Aino Minako. 

She was dressed in an off white pencil skirt and a blush blouse. Her matching bag was on a table by the window. She held her phone in one hand and was bending down to get a can of coffee from the machine. 

“I think it went well. It was worth looking into market penetration. I just had a feeling I should and they seemed very interested in that.” Kouichi sucked in a sharp breath and darted back around the corner, out of sight. He was sure if he didn’t want to intrude because she was talking to someone or because he didn’t want her to see him. He took a cautious peek inside and saw her walking to the window across the break room, a ear bud in her ear, indicating she was on a phone call. She wedged her phone under her arm and opened her can of iced coffee. “I did some comparison studies to the work their previous agency did. I can’t believe they didn’t leave sooner! I know...but you know what I suspect?” 

Kouichi leaned a bit closer as she lowered her voice, wanting to find out what dirt he could get from this woman. 

“I think it’s their senior sales guy. The one I was telling you about.” He snapped his head back and crinkled his eyes. Wait a moment... _ he _ was the senior sales guy. His mouth opened just a bit; did someone dare badmouth him? “He seemed resistant to change. Saitou-san said he was a key person in getting the account, but all he did was complain about every little thing I presented.” 

He nearly balked. He did not! He had  _ legitimate criticisms _ . If there was nothing to say, he wouldn’t have said anything. 

“Well, for one thing, he keeps saying ‘that’s now how we did it before’ and ‘from previous experience, this is too rushed’.” 

Kouichi puffed out his chest. Well, he wasn’t wrong. 

“I mean, has he stopped to consider that maybe that’s the reason the previous agency wasn’t working out? I’m telling you, Mako-chan, he’s one of those old guys who just doesn’t like change and will dig his heels in the more you try to get him out of his little bubble.” Minako took a big sip of her drink, still gazing out the window of the breakroom.

Outside, around the corner, Kouichi fumed. How dare she? First off, he wasn’t in some bubble. He was fine with change. He just didn’t like  _ her  _ change. Second, he was  _ not  _ old. He looked younger than he was and he still turned heads. He took a deep breath, ready to storm into the break room.

“Well...I did say that.” The confidence in her voice faltered a bit and he stopped himself. He peeked inside once more and saw her face redden. “I can criticize him and think he’s hot at the same time, Makoto.” 

Kouichi’s eyes widened. He pulled himself back and felt a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. So...Miss perfect advertising manager thought he was attractive. That was useful. He lifted his hand and stroked his chin. Perhaps he could leverage this somehow. It wouldn't be the first time he’d used his natural good looks and charisma to get what he wanted. 

Naozumi’s face appeared in his mind, frowning with disappointment. Zen and Junya would be encouraging, but Naozumi, and Mamoru, would be disappointed in such a tactic. 

He snorted. But they didn’t have to work with Aino Minako. This was a matter of life and death...for work. 

He took a deep breath and prepared to walk in. He turned the corner, making sure his steps were loud enough to get her attention. She glanced towards the entrance and gave him a civil nod before turning to her phone call. He returned it and tried to keep the corner of his eye on her as he bought a hot coffee. 

“Ooh...that bakery? I want to go.” He glanced over as he waited. He supposed she wasn’t talking to anyone at her advertising firm. Did she forget that she was at her client’s office? How unprofessional. “Yeah, let’s make it brunch on Saturday,” her voice was light and amused; different from the professional tone she used when she was presenting. He looked over as he picked up his can of coffee. “I wanna see him.” 

She was smiling. 

A warm, unguarded smile to whoever it was she was speaking to on the phone. He swallowed and tore his eyes away as she giggled. All right, so she was a little pretty. He’d already established that the first day they met. But none of that mattered.

What mattered was she thought he was hot and he could use that. He took a long sip of his coffee, hoping she’d get off the phone. She’d have to eventually. 

“Okay, I’ll call Rei-chan. You call the others,” she said. “Bye-bye!” She hung up, lifting her phone and sliding her finger across the screen. “I apologize if I was too loud, Takaishi-san. I had a bit of a personal call regarding a friend’s wedding,” she said. She was back to using her professional voice as she gave him what he felt was an insincere apology. 

“Not at all, Aino-san,” he said, matching her tone. Since when did a friend’s wedding mention him? She was clearly venting. He leaned against the counter. “My superiors are quite pleased with your presentation today.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” she said. “I chart out prospective plans using data we’ve collected so far. While I do want to get the campaign underway as soon as possible, I want to be as comprehensive with our information as possible. I understand that you have your concerns.”

She was gathering her things, likely getting ready to leave. He needed to secure some time with her to work his charm. 

“After discussing it with my team, I have to agree that the data you provided us is very useful.” First, he’d compliment her: weaken her defenses. “I can only imagine the amount of work you put in.” 

“It was no trouble at all,” she said in a pleasant voice. “I try to provide the same level of work to all projects I’m assigned. Exceptional work makes us stand out, but consistent exceptional work is what keeps us at the top.” 

...And she turned his compliment into praise of her company. 

Kouichi frowned a bit and let out a low breath. Perhaps he should just get to the point. It was good that he wore one of his better suits; the dark gray one Zen personally tailored that brought out his eyes. He put down his can of coffee and lifted his hand to the hair tie holding back his hair at his nape. He tugged it off - a practiced casual maneuver meant to draw one’s gaze to his face, and ran a hand through his silvery hair. 

“Would you like to discuss the roadmap over dinner? I still have a few questions.” He offered her a gentle, inviting smile. He’d used it often on some of the women at work and as such, he was very well liked and always was one of the first offered snacks. 

Her calm, amiable expression didn’t change. “I can schedule a dinner with  _ both teams _ , if you’d like. It  _ would  _ be good to review everyone’s ideas in a less formal setting.” She lifted her phone and began scrolling through. “Shall I send out a date for...perhaps, next week?” 

He could swear she was smirking. She knew exactly what he was proposing and she purposely misinterpreted it. She wasn’t going to get away that easily. 

Kouichi straightened up and took a step closer. “I was thinking more just the two of us...Aino-san.”

She lowered her phone and lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Just the two of us?” she asked. He kept a smile on his face as he nodded. “I’m afraid that won’t do, Takaishi-san.” 

For a moment, it felt as if the world had screeched to a stop. Did she just reject him?  _ Him _ ? Who had never been rejected by a woman in his entire life?

He refused to falter. “Is it against your company policy, Aino-san?” 

She shook her head, completely unperturbed. “No,” she said. She lifted her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “It’s just that I don’t think I’d be able to carry your drunken, limp body to a taxi by myself.” His eyes went wide as she walked around him. He could smell the faint scent of her soft, sweet perfume. “Glad to see you’re not hurt after that fall you took, Takaishi-san. You must be more careful next time!” She grinned as she lifted her hand to give him a little wave and walked right past him, out of the break room.

Kouichi found himself standing alone, red-faced at the memory of the night he just happened to cross paths with her. The tasteful thing to do would have not mentioned it. Instead, she not only brought it up, but seemed to take pleasure in doing so before waltzing out of the room like a prideful little goddess. 

He grit his teeth and snatched the can of coffee from the counter. He leaned his head back and drank down the rest in one fell swoop. He slammed it back on the counter and scowled. “I’m going to get you off this project, Aino. Just you wait.” 

* * *

“Yes, yes,” Zen said, waiting for his yakitori on the counter. The bustling yakitori shop was in a narrow alleyway with just a small wooden sign indicating what it was, but despite the tiny space it took up, it was still a popular place for near-by office workers to come for a bite before they headed home. The trio managed to get the last three stools at the counter and could watch the cook grill their food. “She’ll pay, I’m sure.” 

Beside him, Junya laughed and munched on his chicken. He was wearing glasses in lieu of his contacts and a hat to try to keep himself as incognito as possible during their afterwork dinner. He had his manager drop him off a block away after a day of filming and was looking forward to the yakitori before heading home. The smell was delicious and, as weird as it was, he liked the smell on his clothes. It reminded him of good times with his close friends.

“Kou-chan, I know you’re frustrated, but she does have a point.”

Kouichi clutched his beer in front of him, as if it was his life line. “And that is?”

“You  _ are _ pretty heavy. I don’t think she could drag you to the curb, either.” Junya gave him a cheeky smile and Kouichi let out a grumble and shot him a glare. Zen sighed from between them. 

“You can’t do anything anyway,” he said. “From what you’ve told us, your company has the final say and they can’t really give the final say on the account until after the campaign. So, how exactly is Aino-san going to get kicked off?” 

“Personally, I like your first plan,” Junya said. He lifted his nearly empty mug as a sign for another beer. He looked towards Kouichi as the server nodded. “I think you should seduce her.” 

“That is a horrible way to put it.” Zen sighed. He took a sip of his wine. “But, yeah, I agree. Seduce her.”

“I knew you two would say that,” Kouichi said under his breath. “Need I remind you that she rejected my invitation?”

“Because you’ve been an ass to her,” Junya said. Zen nodded.   
“Yeah, you have to try to win her over first,” he said. “Butter her up. I mean, would it kill you to be nice to her?”

Kouichi snorted and took another drink of his beer. He looked away with narrowed eyes. “Maybe.”

“You’re really taking her rejection hard, Kou-chan.” Junya leaned forward and moved forward his small plate of grilled beef tongue. “It’s for work, so it’s not like she’s rejecting you personally.”

“Actually, I think she is,” Zen said under his breath. Kouichi sent him a glare. 

“I’ll have you know I overheard her on the phone tell someone that she thought I was ‘hot’.” 

“Ugh...” Zen lowered his wine glass and rolled his eyes. “Please don’t describe yourself as that. You’re not a teenage girl.”

“And neither is she and yet that’s what she called me!” 

“Yeah, and you’re clearly so proud of it.” Zen sighed. “There is always the chance that she wants to keep things professional. Or....”

“Or what....?”

Junya swallowed a piece of meat. He smirked. “Or she knows what you’re trying to do and cut it off fast.” 

Kouichi jerked his head back, as if offended by the thought that his plan had been stopped before it even had a chance to begin. 

“She should be flattered that I even asked her!” 

“Zen, you saw how she looked,” Junya said, looking at the man sitting between them in fitted black pants and a forest green cashmere sweater. His dark gray coat hung on a rack by the door. Zen liked yakitori, but claimed he didn’t want everything he owned to smell like it. “Does she look like the type of girl this guy would go after?”

Zen scoffed. “I don’t know, does Kouichi usually go after beautiful blonde, leggy women with dress suits?” Junya let out a whistle and peered over the top of Zen’s head with a grin. 

“No wonder you’re so pissed!”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, this is wonderful.” Junya beamed. “What happened to being a bachelor for life?”

“This and that are different!” Kouichi insisted as he gripped the edge of the bar counter. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and there was a flush across his cheeks. Junya didn’t know if it was from his drinking or his frustration. “This is a matter of work and a project I’m helping oversee. I won’t let some inexperienced, arrogant little...” He trailed off. Zen glanced over at him and saw him frown. Kouichi glared at the man past him. “Are you even listening?”

Zen looked back at Junya. He had gone silent and was sitting up straight, looking past either of them, towards the entrance of the yakitori place. The two older men followed his gaze. 

“...and two  _ gyotan _ ,” a young woman in a coat was standing at the hostess’ station, giving what seemed to be a take out order. She handed the hostess the menu and reached back with one pale hand to brush back thick, black hair over one ear. 

“Hino-san....” Junya was leaning off his stool, trying to get a better look. He kept leaning, not realizing he was starting to tip off.

“Hey!” Zen grabbed his arm and pulled him. “What are you doing?”

Junya blinked and seemed to shake himself out of his stupor. He looked at Zen before looking back towards the entrance. The lawyer he’d met the other day on set was scrolling through her phone, waiting for her order as she stood by the entrance. Her black coat hit her hips and today, she seemed to be wearing gray slacks with black boots. 

“I’m just...thought I saw someone I know.” Junya tore his eyes away from the entrance and fixed them back on the last of his food. 

“Someone you know?” Zen glanced over his shoulder and squinted. “An actress? What have I seen her in?” 

“Nothing,” Junya said. 

“So she hasn’t debuted yet?” 

“She’s not an actress.” Junya kept his eyes downcast. “She’s a lawyer.” Zen sat up straight and looked back at the entrance. 

“How do you know a lawyer?” Zen asked.

“Junya.” Kouichi’s voice was low and serious as he eyed the actor, concerned. “You’re not in any trouble, are you? You know if you are, you can come to us.” 

Junya shook his head. “No, no, I’m not. She’s the divorce lawyer or something for my co-worker’s husband. She came on set one day to have Abe-san sign something.” 

Kouichi looked relieved. “If that’s all it is....”

“Did she say something to you?” Zen frowned. Junya’s head shot up and he shook his head. 

“No, of course not. Hino-san is very professional,” he said. His friends looked at him with a hint of concern in their eyes. He shook his head again and chuckled, raising his hands. “It’s not like that. I just thought she was beautiful.” 

He saw his friends look back towards the entrance. Rei’s name was called and she looked up from her phone, raising a hand and walking towards the counter to get a plastic bag with grilled meat inside. She thanked the hostess and headed out.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Zen said. “She looks like...how do you call them ‘yamato nadeshiko’, right?” 

“Here’s my share.” Without warning, Junya slapped some money on the counter and ran past them. 

“Junya!” Kouichi called out, but he didn’t stop. 

What were the chances that he’d see her again? He didn’t want to sit around and let such a precious chance pass him by. He raced past the hostess station and bursted outside, looking from side to side to see where she went. 

He caught sight of her heading to the crosswalk his heart shot to his throat. He ran after her. 

“Hino-san!” She turned her head, her long hair swirling around her as the lights of passing cars illuminated her pale, windblown face. She looked towards him, her brows knitting together just slightly as she tried to remember who he was. He stumbled to a stop in front of her, his hand rising to fix his hat as he stood up straight. “Hino-san, I thought it was you.”

She narrowed her sharp eyes and seemed to look him up and down. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” 

“Jade, from the  _ Moichido Love  _ set.” She tilted her head slightly and began to shake her head. Did she really not remember? How many sets did she come by? “You came to the set to have some divorce papers sided by Abe Hana-san?” 

He could swear there was some recognition in her face, but she kept her stoic expression and gave him a small nod. It bothered him that he couldn’t quite read her body language. She seemed strict and serious; he wasn’t sure what to say in her presence.

“Yes, Jade-san, good evening.” She stepped back and gave him a small bow. 

He smiled, relieved that she remembered him. “Yes, it’s good to see you, too. Are you having dinner?” His transition was a bit of a failure and he wasn’t sure why he was asking that when he’d seen her buying food earlier. 

“I’m picking up some food for dinner,” she said, lifting up the plastic bag in her hand. “I’m working late tonight.” 

“Oh...you’re working....” His heart sank and looked down. “I was hoping to maybe buy you a drink?” He peeked up, over his glasses.   
She seemed to take a deep breath, but her stoic look had turned into a disapproving one. “I don’t drink,” she said in a curt voice. “And I apologize for my rudeness, Jade-san, but I really must get going. This is a rather important case and I don’t have much time to spare.”

“Right! Of course!” He instinctively put on his actor smile. “Next time then!” 

She didn’t respond, only gave him another polite bow and crossed the street as the light signaled it was all right for her to. Junya remained standing on the sidewalk, sighing deeply. That didn’t go well at all.

“That didn’t go well at all,” he heard a voice behind him. He whirled around and saw Zen and Kouichi peeking from around the corner of a 7-11. Zen was shaking his head. “What happened to that super popular idol on tv?” 

Junya bristled. “I don’t want her to just know that part of me! I want to talk to her as Junya, not as Jade.”

“So, you want her to see your awkward side?” Zen smirked. “In that case, good job.”  
“I hate you, Zen.” 

“Uh-huh....” Zen gave him a dismissing wave of his hand. “I don’t think she’s into your type. She seems too straight laced for you.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!” He looked taken aback and looked to Kouichi for help. “Kou-chan, tell him!”

The eldest of them let out a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair. “He’s not saying that you’re a bad person, Junya. However, I have to agree with Zen.”

“What?”  
“Junya, look at you,” Zen said, lifting a hand up and down to indicate his clothes. “You’re dressed like a stylish college student.” 

He looked down at his clothes. It was the latest street wear and one of the stylists from the agency had prepared it for him. “What’s wrong with my clothes?” 

“It screams that you’re on a different level than she is,” Zen said. “She’s a lawyer and she dresses like one. She dresses like a working adult professional and....” He looked towards the street that she had crossed. “Her clothes are...real luxury.”

“So are these,” Junya said, tugging on his sweater. That sweater was at least 30 thousand yen.

Kouichi shook his head. “Zen means that they are expensive, but you wouldn’t know they’re expensive unless you were familiar with them already.”

“She wasn’t wearing a purse, but her shoes are at least 80 thousand yen. She has some wear on them, that means those are everyday shoes, not special occasion shoes. Her coat fit her _ perfectly _ ; it’s been tailored, if not completely bespoke. Those pants are an item from French fashion house Celine. At least another 85 thousand yen. Even her scarf is Isabel Marant.” Zen seemed to count the items off his fingers. “Every single piece is a classic item of clothing; not one that will come and go with fashion trends.”

“What?” Junya looked at his own clothes. “So...you’re saying...she's not into what I’m wearing?”

“I’m saying you look a bit childish and tacky in comparison,” Zen said, deadpan. “As far as style goes, you’re very on trend; as expected of an idol.”

“But that woman is likely not into idols, Junya.” Kouichi concluded with an air of finality and Junya shook his head. 

He drew his lips inward and frowned. “Then what am I supposed to do? Dress up like an old man in a suit? Ah...no offense, Kouichi.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” 

“Junya, do you really think you have a chance with her? It seems like she doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Zen said, softening his voice. “I know she’s beautiful, but you don’t even know if you have anything in common.” 

He took a deep breath and nodded. “I know, but that’s what I was hoping to find out. She just seems...interesting.”

Zen sighed and put his hand on Junya’s shoulder. “Junya, it may be for the best that this is just a fleeting fixation. You’re busy these days, aren’t you? You have that drama and then immediately start filming another one after it. Not to mention, you have those variety shows to go on and a commercial.” 

Junya took another deep breath and nodded, though was still disappointed. “I suppose you’re right. Now isn’t a good time.”

“Finally, some words of sense,” Kouichi said. “I wish Mamoru would consider his situation, as well.”

“Ugh...not this again,” Zen muttered. He put his arm around Junya and turned him around. “Let’s go before he starts to cry.”

“I’m not going to cry!” 

* * *

“He didn’t cry again, did he?” Naozumi leaned back against the chair, sighing tiredly as he crossed his arms over his chest. Across from him, Zen chuckled and shook his head. After a long week at the atelier, he was rewarding himself with a slice of layered crepe cake from Naozumi’s bakery. 

Since Naozumi wasn’t able to join them for dinner the night before due to having an event to cater, he thought it would also be a good idea to see if his friend wanted to join him. Usually, Naozumi was busy up until closing, but tonight it seemed he had made some time. He brought them out some coffee and sat in a corner table, where Zen happily relayed their friends’ latest troubles. 

“He didn’t cry,” Zen said with a laugh. “But he did start ranting again and so Junya said he had to get to sleep since he had an early shoot tomorrow and I claimed I had an appointment I had to prepare for.”

Naozumi sighed and ran an exasperated hand down his face. “He really needs to get over this. Mamoru has made his decision and he’s marrying a kind young woman who loves him. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

Zen took a sip of his coffee, silently wishing he had bought another slice of crepe cake after he devoured this first slice. 

“It is and we all knew that Mamoru was going in that direction. I don’t see why he’s so shocked.”

“He feels responsible for raising Mamoru and wants to protect him. I understand that. Sometimes, I look at Mamoru and still see the quiet little kid living alone in that big, empty apartment. All things considering, it’s a miracle he ended up as good as he did.” Naozumi sighed. 

Zen smiled, thoughtful, and nodded. “We have your parents to thank for that, too. Did you tell Auntie and Uncle yet?”

Naozumi hesitated and looked away. “I thought it would be best for Mamoru to send them the wedding invitation.” 

“That’s not like you to keep things from them....” 

His friend sighed and leaned back against his chair once more. “My mother has been asking me about getting a girlfriend and has started looking into setting me up with someone.”

Zen nearly choked on his coffee. “What?” He sputtered as he sat up straight. “Since when?”

“Since my last birthday,” Naozumi said in a low voice. “She’s worried that I don’t have time to date considering how busy I am, so she’s started pestering me about meeting the daughters of friends and acquaintances.” 

Zen made a pained face. He was estranged from his mother since he moved out his first year of high school, so the sort of parental pressure Naozumi experienced was foreign to him. There were times he’d be envious that there was at least someone who cared enough about him to ‘want him to be happy’, whatever that meant. 

However, this wasn’t one of those times. His mother didn’t care what he did and that was how he liked it. He had complete freedom without filial duties. 

“What did you tell her?”

What do you think I told her? I was busy and didn’t have time.” 

Zen snorted. He leaned forward and gave Naozumi a knowing look. “Okay, listen, I know Auntie...she’s not one to back down. So tell me the truth. How many dates?” 

He watched the baker’s eyes narrow and an irritated frown reach his lips. “Three.”

Zen’s eyes widened and he flew back against his chair. “Three and you haven’t told us!” He was almost scandalized. Kouichi would  _ die _ if he found out.

Naozumi tilted his head back and let out a heavy breath. “They were just meetings so I can let them down properly.”

“Yeah, but I bet that’s not stopping your mom.”

Naozumi frowned more so. “It’s not,” he said in a low voice. “She just won’t let up. She’s convinced I need to get married and settle down.”

Once more, the relief of not having to face a mother that demanded he completely change his life filled him. Zen shook his head and looked at his friend with pity. “I don’t know what to tell you. Auntie’s stubborn so....”

“Tell me about it. Do you know how many women she’s sent here? At least a half dozen have asked to meet me. It’s been distracting.” He reached for his coffee and looked up. Zen saw his eyes flicker past him and seemed to dilate just a bit. Curious, the blond looked over his shoulder, towards the entrance of the bakery. 

A woman was putting her umbrella in the umbrella stand by the door. She was tall, nearly as tall as he was, with brown hair and a dark green raincoat. He heard shuffling across from him and looked back at his friend. Naozumi finished his coffee and put it down. 

“You’re done?” 

“My next appointment is here,” he said. He lifted a hand and smiled a bit. Zen raised a brow and looked back over his shoulder. The tall woman he’d seen earlier waved back with a wide smile and seemed to point to the line to order. Naozumi nodded. 

“Appointment? Business or pleasure?”

Naozumi let out a heavy breath. “She’s engaged,” he said. The hint of disappointment in his voice was just enough for Zen to make out. “This is business.” He wiped his lips with a napkin as he rose from his seat. “She runs a catering company that’s very popular with some of my clients, so I’m hoping to secure a preferred spot as a pastry vendor she can recommend and work with.”

Zen gave him a small nod and sipped his drink. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck.”

“Thanks; I’ll see you next week.” Naozumi straightened his white uniform and walked past Zen to get to the line. The designer drank his coffee as he peered over the lip to watch his friend approach the lovely woman and tap her on the shoulder. A warm smile filled Naozumi’s face as she turned around and Zen sighed.

“It’s weird to mention she’s engaged if it’s just business, but whatever....” He finished off his coffee and stood up. Someone would come by to clean the table and so he took his black trench coat off the back of his seat and shoved his arms through. 

He didn’t bother buttoning it up as he rose from his chair and headed to the door. He looked up and frowned. It was raining a bit, but at least it wasn’t too hard. The problem was it was windy. He reached down and buttoned his coat before pulling up the collar and stepping out to brave the walk home. 

For a bit, he debated whether or not to tell Kouichi that their aunt was trying to set up Naozumi. Even if Kouichi had something to say, he wouldn’t dare argue against Naozumi’s mother, whom they all loved and respected. If anything, it could backfire on him and their aunt would extend her reach to them, also insisting that they get married.

Zen shook his head. There was no way. When would he have time to deal with that? He was busy and most of the women he knew did not want a husband or boyfriend who was too busy for them. They’d also take away from time with his brothers. Who would give fashion advice to Junya or critique Naozumi's latest creation? Who would calm Kouichi and encourage Mamoru? Well, Naozumi could, but he was busy.

No, it was best for him to be single. 

The walk to his apartment was about fifteen minutes, though it felt longer in the rain and wind freezing his face. At the very least, he was glad he wore those rain boots he bought and his coat’s high collar did something to shield him. Around him, he could hear the rain and cars driving past, just as eager to get home as he was. He shook his head. It was clearly raining; they should slow down. 

He could see his building ahead of him and began to reach into his pocket to get his key. Zen made it two steps before he heard someone screaming and immediately turned towards the direction of the sound. A woman was leaning forward, nearly running out into a busy intersection as she reached out. 

Chasing after a small, inverted umbrella was a young boy, nearly a quarter of the way through the intersection with cars still coming. 

He took off, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he jumped over the guard rail and ran into the slick, shimmering wet street. A small part of his mind registered the screeching tires and the fishtailing car that wouldn’t stop in time. 

“This damn kid!” He grabbed the child and pulled him against his chest, wrapping his arms around him as he tried to jump out of the way, only to feel his right side hit metal and his head slam back against cold glass. 

* * *

Junya sat in front of his laptop, scrolling through the website of the Takamura Office of Law. The first day he met Hino-san at the drama set and was promptly rejected, he’d put away the business card she’d given him and forgotten about it. 

However, when he returned home the night before, after another brush with the beautiful young lawyer, he dug through all the pockets of his coats to find the small piece of cardstock. He then went online, hoping to find out more about her. 

It was ridiculous and he felt stupid for doing so. He also acknowledged how creepy it was when someone did internet research on a person. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling up the website and scrolling through to find out about their employees. 

The law office itself dealt with high profile clients: politicians, celebrities, and wealthy business dynasties. It was a third generation law office and one of its newest additions was Hino Rei. As expected, her picture on the website had her looking serious, though he thought she still looked quite elegant. 

She was a graduate of a top tier university and then got her law degree at the best law school in Japan. She specialized in wills and trusts and had joined a year prior. That was all it said on the website, but Junya still kept returning. 

It was clear that Hino-san didn’t just dress like an elite. She  _ was  _ an elite.

Junya fell back against his sofa and closed his eyes, sighing. He felt strangely helpless with the thought that she was far out of his league lingering in his head. He didn’t think he was lacking before. Girls had always practically thrown themselves at him, if only because of his face. 

In school, he was popular. Even while getting his graduate degree while trying to study incognito, he was constantly being invited out by classmates. All of that was before anyone found out he came from money. His mother was the only child of a real estate magnet in Yokohama. When she died, she left everything to him.  _ Everything _ . 

Jewelry, clothes, properties all over Japan and a few overseas. He once had a boat, three different luxury cars, and the very highrise he was raised parentless in. He liquidated most of what he could. He bought himself a nice new flat closer to the area where his friends seemed to gather. 

The rest of his wealth was spent on maintaining properties and various charities he liked to support. 

On his father’s side, the old man had remarried his mistress as soon as his mother died. Junya currently had a half-sister and half-brother he’d never met and likely never would. As his mother long knew about his father’s mistress, she made sure nothing of hers would ever fall into his hands. When his father found out, he was furious. 

His father wasn’t anywhere near as wealthy as his mother and now, Junya. 

During his mother’s cancer treatments towards the end of her life, Junya had been encouraged to at least see her by his friends. The fierce, strict business woman he’d only see once or twice a year looked like a shadow of her former self. They’d always been very reserved with each other and Junya had approached with flowers, planning to greet her and go.

However, impending death had a way of changing a person. 

At eighteen, he’d gotten to know his mother for the first time. It surprised him to find out that she knew his ‘brothers’ and thought they were good influences. 

“There are few people you can trust, Junya,” she had said as he sat with her through a treatment. “Hold on to them. They are very precious.” 

He didn’t think he’d ever cry at a parent’s funeral, but he did. It wasn’t fair; he’d just gotten to know his mother. He’d been able to find out more about her life, discovered she knew more about him than he thought, and learned why she was never home and that she regretted not communicating with him more. She was an awkward woman, he supposed, but at least he knew she loved him. 

His father, on the other hand, put up a fight when he found out Junya was to receive everything. He tried to get Junya to share, but after discussing it with Kouichi and the others, he felt it would dishonor his mother to go against her wishes. As a result, his father declared he was dead to him.

“This is the first time I’ve seen you in five years,” Junya said, his voice was colder than it’d ever been. “You were dead to me long ago.” 

The last he heard, his father’s business was foundering after the recession and couldn’t really recover. 

Part of the reason he’d selected a stage name was because he didn’t want anyone finding out about his family. It wasn’t so much that he was ashamed of it. It was more that it was bothersome to have people know about it and ask questions. He preferred to focus on the present and the people in his lives now.

He let out another heavy breath and looked back at the laptop screen, with the tiny picture of Hino-san. 

“This crush is getting out of hand...snap out of it, Junya.” He reached forward and lowered the screen, shutting his laptop. He had his own fanclub and he’d be mobbed when he was recognized, yet there he was, feeling absurdly lonely because he couldn’t even talk to a woman he’d briefly met twice. 

Junya stood up and headed to his room to prepare for bed. As he passed the coffee table, he leaned down to snatch his phone, only to see it light up. He furrowed his brows. Now-a-days, it was rare that someone actually called him. 

Mamoru’s face and number appeared on the screen. He slid his finger across and held it up to his ear.

“Mamo-kun, what’s-” He snapped his mouth shut as he felt his body grow cold. “What? Why?” He turned around, looking for the jacket he had tossed over one of the chairs when he got in. His heart began to race as panic filled him. “Where is he now?” He grabbed his jacket and raced to the door. “I’ll be there soon!”

* * *

She lifted her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as he sat across from her, enjoying watching her expressions dance across her face. 

“Okay, you’re right,” Makoto said as she lowered her hand. Her eyes were still crinkled up, filled with mirth as she looked at him. “That is a pretty extreme case of a bad client.”

He chuckled and held on to his now empty cup of coffee. What started off as a business meeting of sorts ended up as a casual conversation. It then turned into a sort of competition on who had the worst brush with a client. 

“Morikawa-san’s office luckily removed that person and we deal with someone far easier to work with now for city hall events,” Naozumi said. “However, we do keep a list of all the people who we’ve blacklisted and refuse to work with.” 

Makoto’s face lit up and she nodded. “So do we! When I first started, I thought it was absurd. There couldn’t be that many people who are so difficult to work with for catering, but I was shocked. There were so many people who wanted one thing, but then changed their mind and blamed you.”

“I also found it difficult to work with those who are too relaxed and aren’t sure what they want, so they leave it up to you.”

She gasped and leaned forward, conspiringly. “And then they make comments when they’re not satisfied, right?”

He gave her a small nod. “They’re the ones, yes. They claim to be easy to work with, but never have any idea or are just extremely indecisive.”

Makoto shrank back against her seat and shook her head. “I learned that the hard way. One of my long-time clients asked me to cater his daughter’s wedding. Since he was such a good client, I of course said yes. His daughter was too easy going and indecisive. She made changes every few days. If he wasn’t such an important client, I would’ve dropped her.”

Naozumi smiled, but the reminder of a wedding inadvertently led his thoughts back to her. “And what about you?” he asked. “That wedding that I’m doing the cake for...?”  
She blinked. “I’m not too demanding am I?” A small flush reached her cheeks and he drew in a lip to bite it. “I admit, I did ask for a lot, but I just want to make that day memorable and there are so many yummy things here to choose from.” 

She looked past him, towards the sales counters where various pastries were still displayed behind well lit, glass cases. 

He swallowed hard. “I’ll make sure everything will be perfect, Kino-san.” 

Her smile was warm and bright. She looked down at her cup, where she had some layered parfait earlier. “I hope so,” she said in a softer voice. “I’d love for that day to be perfect.”

His chest seemed to ache and he willed himself to shove down his disappointment. She was an engaged woman; just because he thought she was beautiful and funny and really understood where he was coming from didn’t mean he had any right to be envious. 

He forced a smile on his face and tried to redirect the conversation back to work. “So, are you catering it, too?” he said. “That’s a lot of work for you isn’t it?” 

Makoto perked up. “No, not at all. On the contrary, I sort of like having a great deal of control over it. If things happen, such as a mistake in the orders last minute, I can take care of it without worrying about how the client would freak out. Besides, I already know what food to prepare.” 

She seemed pleased and he nodded. 

He wasn’t sure if he’d cater his own wedding considering he would be too busy with other things and couldn’t supervise. Not that he’d ever really thought about it.

“Do you know the dates or anything yet?” 

“The last Saturday of May,” Makoto said. “The spot is reserved at the Grand. I’m waiting for the groom to confirm the date with his friends.” 

“That’s a nice place. I don’t think I’ve catered there before, though. At least not through here.”

“I did two there last year and the staff was wonderful. They even gave us a discount for the total.” Makoto clapped her hands together. “Their facilities are great, too. There is a kitchen we can use and there is ample time before the reception to set up.”

“That’s great,” Naozumi said. “I’m glad this is all thought out carefully.”

“Well, you know how clients are,” Makoto sighed. “I’d hate to do that to a colleague in the industry. Ah!” She blushed. “Not that I think I’m on your level or anything. I like baking, but I’m not the best at it. You’re...Sanjouin Naozumi. I’m just a caterer.”

“Don’t say that.” Naozumi sat up in his chair and frowned. “Kino-san, I’ve heard your company praised much in the last year or so by my existing clients and I’m sure you know that most of my clients are quite demanding. For them to drop your name is very telling.”

Her cheeks flushed once more and he wanted to keep complimenting. “I just...I really enjoy cooking for others. I like sitting with them and getting to know them and then coming up with a menu that would fit them best. I love it when their faces light up.” 

His eyes softened. “I’m sure....” He said, his voice gentle. He shook himself out of his stupor. “That’s...that’s the reason I was hoping to work with you more.” Well, it was part of the reason.

“I was surprised when you called about the Nakamura event,” Makoto smiled, looking a bit embarrassed. “To think that Sanjouin Naozumi would want to work with me....”

“Naozumi,” he said. She lifted her head and he took in her big green eyes. He swallowed and gave her a small smile. “Please call me Naozumi.”

Her face heated up and he knew he was pushing his luck. To request that she call him by his first name so soon, and only on their second actual meeting...what was he doing? 

“Naozumi-san....” she said, as if testing out the sound. Why did her face flush like that when his name rolled off her tongue? God, it was making his chest ache. 

He refused to show any outward sign of his confusion and frustration. “Nakamura-san had a bad experience with her last caterer and asked if I could recommend someone. It’s strange, but I don’t really have any general catering contacts. I know a few chefs, but nothing for this sort of scale. Since I have your card and already heard so much about you, I was hoping you’d accept.”

“Well, I’m more than happy to meet with Nakamura-san, as I’ve said.”

“I will have her people call you, then. I didn’t want to just throw them at you without warning. What if you were busy?” he grinned. 

She laughed again and he chuckled. “You can throw all you want at me. I’ll figure something out.” 

“A five hundred person banquet?”

She smirked. “I’ve worked with more.” 

He smirked back. “That’s impressive.”

“I do enjoy the challenge,” she said, a bit proud. “Oh, but to ease your mind, the wedding will have a hundred or so people.”

“I will have enough pastries for them and more.”

“Good,” Makoto said. “If you have time, you should stay for it.” He paused and blinked.

“What?”

“After you deliver and set up. If you’d like to stay for the reception, you’d be my guest.” She was looking at him with sparkling, almost hopeful eyes and Naozumi wasn’t sure what to say.

He’d been invited to attend functions he was catering in the past, but going to Kino-san’s wedding, where he’d have to see her marry another man.... Who in the right mind would agree to that?

Yet she was looking at him with expectant eyes and he couldn’t decline her offer so easily. He struggled to find a suitable excuse. At least one that would buy him time. 

He put on a smile he’d learned from Junya. An ‘actor’s smile’ the blond called it. “We’ll have to see. The date is still far off and I’d need to check the schedule.”

He saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, but she took it in stride. “Well, the invitation is there if you want it.” 

“Sanjouin-san,” a voice said behind him. He turned to the side and was relieved to see one of the managers shuffling up to him, looking hesitant to bother them. “I’m sorry for intruding, but there is a call in the office. They said it’s an emergency.”

He looked at Makoto, who looked surprised and a little worried. She looked at him and seemed to acknowledge that their little coffee meeting had come to an end.

“I should get going now,” she said, gathering her things off the table and reaching for her bag. 

“Murata-san, please let them know I’ll be there in a moment,” Naozumi said. He rose to his feet. “Kino-san, thank you for coming to meet with me this evening.”

“No, no, Sanjouin-san. Thank you for keeping me in mind for the Nakamura event,” she said, finishing putting her notebook and phone in her bag. “I’m still a fledgling caterer, so this is very helpful.” 

He was behind her seat and had picked up her jacket, holding it up for her to put her arms through. He didn’t realize he was doing it until she paused and glanced at him and at her jacket. The warm blush was across her cheeks once more, but she didn’t protest. 

“I’m sure Nakamura-san will be very pleased with your work from what I’ve heard from my other clients,” he said. She slid her arms through her jacket. He could smell the scent of her flowery perfume and stepped back as she shrugged her jacket on. “And...once more, Naozumi is fine.” 

She turned to look at him as she lifted her back on her shoulder. Her smile was warm. “Then, you must call me Makoto.” 

He stared at her in a bit of a daze, as if it were just the two of them left in the bakery. “Makoto-san, then.”

They remained standing in front of each other, silent, until the manager's voice called to him again. Makoto blinked and drew her head back. 

“I’ll talk to you soon, Naozumi-san.” She looked away, appearing a bit shy as she made her way to the door to get her umbrella.

“Have a safe trip home, Makoto-san.” He watched her pull her umbrella with the fitting rose patterns all over it and look back at him one last time. She gave him a small wave, then slipped out the door. Naozumi took a deep breath. “You’re a fool and an idiot, Naozumi....” He muttered to himself. 

He tore his eyes away from the window and headed past the counter to get to the back office. Murata, the manager, bowed and slipped out of the room so he could speak to whoever it was on the phone in private.

He brought the receiver of the phone up to his ear and pressed a button to take the person off hold. “Hello?” 

“Is this Sanjouin Naozumi-san?” a woman’s uncertain voice asked. He narrowed his eyes and took a seat on the desk chair. He didn’t recognize that voice.

“Yes, who is this?” he asked.

“Tsukino Usagi. I am Mamo-chan’s girlfriend.” A chill shot through him. He sat up straight in his chair, immediately assuming the worst. “We are at the hospital-”

“What? The hospital?” Naozumi felt his heart slam against his chest. Was the worst coming true?

He heard someone speaking to Usagi, as if coaching her to be more careful with her words. “Right...sorry...I am calling because a friend of yours was in a car accident. Mamo-chan and I came to the hospital. He’s with Isono-san right now-”

“Zen?” Naozumi was walking to a closet where he kept his jacket. He began making mental instructions to give to Murata to close the bakery while he left early. “Is he all right?”

“He was hit by a car.”

“Usagi....” He heard a woman sigh from the other side of the line.

“He’s still unconscious, but he’ll be fine. Mamo-chan asked me to call you all and tell you to come here.” 

“Thank you for calling, Tsukino-san. Tell me which hospital.” He grabbed his jacket and keys. “I’ll be there soon.”

* * *

He heard beeping, even when he couldn’t see anything. As his consciousness began to stir and the beeping grew louder, a throbbing pain made itself known all across his body. He took in a shallow breath, only to wince and hiss as his chest felt as if it was going to explode. 

Someone was beside him and he heard another beep, followed by footsteps rushing away. 

“Nurse!” a man’s voice was shouting. “He’s waking up!”

Zen tried to open his eyes, but couldn’t seem to open one. He managed to crack open his left eye and could make blurry figures arriving and bustling around him. 

“We’ve paged the doctor. She’ll be here soon,” a woman said.

“Thank you, nurse.” Nurse? Was he in a hospital? 

It hurt to think, but he forced himself to recall where he was last. It was raining. It was windy. He was walking home. 

He mentally swore and closed his eyes. And he had rushed out into the street. The beeping beside him quickened. 

“Isono-san, it’s all right. You’re at the Tokyo University hospital. You’re safe.” 

He didn’t feel safe. He could barely make out their faces. He saw someone standing in the corner and he squinted. Dark hair, pale skin, tall. “Mamoru...?” his voice croaked.

“Don’t talk, Zen,” Mamoru said, stepping a bit closer. He seemed to keep his distance so the nurses could check his vitals. “You were hit by a car.”

He felt like he was. Zen closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing. His chest burned and he wondered if he’d broken anything. His throat was dry. “The kid...?”  
“He was fine. A bit scraped, but your body took the blunt of the hit,” Mamoru said. “The car was skidding to a stop, so it wasn’t going full speed when it hit you, but....”

Zen didn’t have to guess what he meant. “Am I gonna live?” His voice was strained. 

Mamoru let out a small, relieved breath. “Yeah...you’re bruised and broken in some parts, but you’re going to live.” 

Zen was trying to keep his breathing steady without causing more pain than he was in. “How’d you know to come?” 

“A friend called,” Mamoru said. 

“We’ll be back soon. The doctor will be here shortly,” one of the nurses told him. Mamoru nodded. He waited for them to leave before getting closer. 

“I thought the worst when I got the call,” he said. Zen could hear the tremble in his voice and he wanted to smile a bit. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Zen told him. Mamoru seemed to suck back his tears and wiped at his eyes. “Mamoru, I’m fine.” 

His friend’s shaking voice whispered, almost breathless. “I thought you were dying....”

Zen shut his eyes tight, trying to keep from crying as well. “It feels like it....” He tried to crack a joke. “Everything hurts.”

Mamoru nodded. Zen tried to look at him once more. His face was ashen and his hand, which gripped the side rail of the bed, was still shaking. 

“Mamoru....”

“Sorry,” the dark-haired man said. “It’s just...they told me you were in a car accident.” 

Zen’s heart stopped for a moment. His good eye crinkled up as his chest began to ache. Mamoru’s parents had died in a car accident.

“Mamo-kun,” he said, his dry, cracking voice as reassuring as he could make it. “It’s all right.” He wanted to reach for his friend, but could only raise his left arm a bit. “I’ll be okay.” 

Mamoru nodded and saw him raise his hand. “Don’t strain yourself,” he said, moving his hand over his to keep it down. “Your left side is fine, but your right side is injured. You need to rest.”

“I will,” Zen said. “How long have I been here? When did the hospital call you?”

“A few hours,” Mamoru said. “I think...she called Usako around nine.” 

“Usa...your girlfri-fiancee?” Zen knit his brows and couldn’t figure out why they would. “Why would they call her?”

Mamoru smiled weakly. “The doctor who saw you when you arrived is a friend of Usako’s. She recognized you and called Usako once you were stabilized. Luckily, I was with her when the call came and she told me what happened and where you were.” 

A low breath left Zen. “I see....” He glanced around the room. Mamoru was there alone. “Did she leave?”

“She’s in the lobby, waiting for the others,” Mamoru said. “Michiru-san is keeping her company, I think.”

“Who’s that?” 

“Another friend of hers. Her and her girlfriend drove us here. I was shaking and couldn’t think straight. They lived near-by, so Usako called for help.” Mamoru looked a bit embarrassed.

“That’s some girlfriend you have.” 

“She has some really good friends.”

Zen wanted to laugh, but it hurt too much. “We have that in common.” 

A knock came from the door and Zen tried to focus on the doorway. It was part way open and he saw someone petite slip through in a white lab coat, holding a clipboard. His good eye widened as the beeping beside him began to quicken. He didn’t notice Mamoru look at him, worried, as his heart rate spiked.

Zen didn’t expect her there, and his stomach sank, realizing who she was.

“Good evening, Isono-san,” the blue-haired woman with the thin, black framed glasses on the tip of her nose said. She glanced up from the clipboard and his mouth remained agape. “I’m your doctor; Mizuno Ami.” 


	3. Chapter 3

No amount of trauma seemed to stop his mind from putting together the now obvious circumstances that led Mamoru to being called to his hospital room.

Mizuno-san, no, Zen’s mind corrected him quickly. Mizuno- _ sensei _ , was the doctor who admitted him when he was rushed in, unconscious after being hit by a Honda. She was the friend of Mamoru’s fiancee, Usagi. 

Mamoru and Usagi were getting married. 

This meant that unless Mizuno-sensei had some other engaged friend, she came to his atelier inquiring about a wedding dress for _ Usagi  _ because  _ Mamoru _ had insisted. Therefore, he had dismissed his brother’s fiancee’s friend - who was not only a doctor, but the one who contacted his emergency contacts - from his shop and now he was at her mercy, as well as unknowingly rejected his brother’s request for a dress for his bride.

Uncle always said that his arrogance would come for him one day. 

“Mamoru.”

“Yes?”

“Pull the plug.” 

“What?” His friend looked at him as if he lost his mind as the doctor flipped through his chart and walked over.

“There is no plug to pull, Isono-san,” she said. “However, you will need to wear a brace for a while.” 

Zen avoided her eyes, instead fixing them to a blank wall. Mamoru sighed. “Ami-san, can you go over his injuries? How bad are they?”

She gave him a curt nod and crossed the room to a screen against the wall. She turned it on and began flipping through some x-rays. She stopped at one that seemed to be that of an arm. “They’re not as bad as they could’ve been. While the car was slowing down when it hit him, it was still enough to cause some injury. This is his right arm. There is a bit of a fracture here.” She circled part of the screen with a laser pointer, then moved to another image. “The entire right side of his body is quite bruised, especially his leg. The minor scrapes and bruises around the rest of his body are from when he rolled off the top of the car.”

“I  _ what _ ?” Zen said, turning his attention to her. She looked at him with dull eyes. 

“From what witnesses say, the car hit you and you rolled on top of the hood, over the windshield, and down the other side. Luckily, the child you were shielding was fine-”

“Zen!” A voice cried out as the door swung open and a ragged looking Kouichi braced himself to a stop against the doorframe. His face paled at the sight of Zen on the hospital bed. His white hair was tied back and he looked to be wearing a pajama top over a wrinkled pair of work pants. His trench coat was wide open and if Zen wasn’t irritated at the sight of him, he would’ve been irritated at him leaving his condo _ dressed like that. _

Zen frowned and looked at Mamoru. “Did you call them?” he asked, annoyed. He already had enough to deal with that night. He didn’t need to deal with his friends panicking over what weren’t even broken bones. 

“Of course I did!” Mamoru said, frowning back. “I couldn’t not tell them. Kou-chan would kill me if I didn’t tell him immediately.”  
It was true. Zen let out a low grumble, but flinched when the pain made itself known again. 

Kouichi stormed in, taking in the sight of Zen’s bruised face and bandaged shoulder and arm peeking from the top of his hospital gown. His eyes crinkled up and he shook his head. “Are you critical? Do you need blood? We have the same blood type-Doctor!” He turned as he saw Mizuno-sensei standing by the screen. “Tell me what he needs. Whatever it is-”

“Calm down.” Naozumi’s hand clamped over Kouichi’s mouth and he pulled him back. He gave Mizuno-sensei a small, apologetic bow of his head. He seemed to have rushed straight from the bakery. “I’m sorry, he ran off as soon as Tsukino-san informed him of the room number.” Kouichi was struggling to get out of his grip. “Can all of us be here at one time?”  
“At the moment, only one guest is allowed at a time,” Mizuno-sensei said in a calm voice. Zen wondered if she was used to this. “I am explaining the injuries to Mamoru-san and Isono-san at the moment; however, rest assured that Isono-san has minor injuries considering the severity of the accident. He will be fine.”

Zen narrowed his eyes. He felt like his body was going to fall apart at any minute and she called them ‘minor’? 

Regardless, her words seemed to calm Kouichi down. Naozumi still didn’t remove his hand, instead slowly dragging the eldest of them out of the room. 

“Zen, we’ll be back soon. Mamoru, finish up here and when you’re done, come get us and we’ll switch.” 

Mamoru nodded and Zen could hear Kouichi’s muffled protests against Naozumi’s firm hand. They disappeared into the hall and Mizuno-sensei looked back towards them. 

“As I was saying, he has hairline fractures in his leg and arm. His shoulder took the brunt of the trauma. He will need to wear a sling and a neck brace for several weeks, if not months to heal properly.” 

Zen frowned more so. If he couldn’t move his arms and shoulders, that posed a problem. “How will this affect my work?”

Mizuno-sensei turned off the screen. “I’m afraid your ability to draw out designs and put together garments will be greatly hindered, Isono-san.”

“What?” He tensed up, only for a pain to shoot through his body. He let out a hiss and sank back into his bed, gritting his teeth. 

“Zen, don’t move.” Mamoru said, hovering over him. He looked at Mizuno-sensei beseechingly. “What about afterwards?”

“He will need to go through some physical therapy, but I’m fully certain he’ll recover.”  
Zen let out a low breath. “Thank God....”

“However, if he wants to recover best, he’ll need to return to work little by little, and in moderation, so as not to further aggravate and prolong his injuries.”

Zen held his breath. “How long?”

Mizuno-san looked to Mamoru, who looked equally hesitant to know. He gave her a nod and she looked back at him. “A few months and even then, he’ll need to be cautious for the next few years.”

Zen closed his eyes, swearing under his breath as Mamoru thanked the doctor. There was another knock at the door, or rather, on the frame and Zen glanced over to glare at whoever it was. A tall young man with short blond hair and green eyes was lingering at the doorway. 

“Sorry to bother you,” he said. “Did you want us to wait and drop you off or take Usagi home? She’s falling asleep.” 

Mamoru took a deep breath. “I’ll catch a ride with one of my friends. Please take her home, Haruka-san. I’ll be out in a minute, if you can wait.”

Haruka gave him a nod. “I’ve brought some coffee for you and left it in the lobby. Ami,” he said, looking back at the doctor. Were they friends, too? “I also left you one at the nurse’s station.”

The doctor nodded in return. “Thank you, Haruka-san.” She turned back to the room and gave them a bow. “I’ll have the nurses check on him periodically. The painkillers should be kicking in soon. I’ll also check on him before I leave, after my shift.” She seemed to address Mamoru and Zen continued to scowl. She didn’t have to treat him as if he were a child who couldn’t understand what was going on. 

“Thank you, Ami-san.” The doctor left the room and Mamoru looked back at him. “I’m going tell the others what happened and switch with them.”  
Zen rolled his eyes. “It’s late. Just tell them to go home.”

“They came all this way to check on you,” Mamoru said. “I’ll send them in one at a time. It’ll only be for a few minutes.”

That was probably the best he could ask for. Zen begrudgingly let out a ‘humph’ as Mamoru headed out the door. He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain in his body, taking in what he was just told. His injuries would severely dampen his plans. 

He didn’t worry too much about the consulting part of his job. He’d done virtual ones where he didn’t have to move a finger. His staff was excellent and followed his orders to a tee when it came to consulting and styling. The problem was, he did the majority of the designing at his company and currently had several projects lined up. 

Not all the designs were finalized and even if they were, he always put the garment together himself, including hand selecting the fabrics and embellishments. There was no way he’d be able use a machine or hand sew details in a sling and brace. The time and effort it would take to get another set of hands to do the work for him would drive him insane.

The more he thought about it, the more aggravated he became. So much for being able to do whatever he wanted.

* * *

Junya held the paper cup now only half filled with coffee in his hands as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. His head was downcast as he took a deep breath to try to calm himself further. He was the last of the group to arrive and reached the lobby of the hospital as Naozumi dragged Kouichi past him. 

“One one visitor at a time,” Naozumi said with his hand fixed over Kouichi’s red face. He looked over at the seated young blonde woman. “Tsukino-san, this is another friend of ours.” Kouichi struggled against the baker, but Naozumi easily held him. All those years of martial arts paid off, apparently. Naozumi smiled. “I need to deal with this one.”

He then dragged a pajama wearing Kouichi outside. 

“Is your friend...all right?” The lady beside the blonde was a beautiful woman with wavy teal hair, who seemed somewhat distrubed by the scene of a man in a chef’s outfit trying to wrangle in a white-haired lunatic.

Junya sighed as he followed her gaze out the door and cringed as Kouichi’s muffled ranting was calmed by Naozumi’s words. “Yes, he’ll be fine. Kouichi just gets very worried. I’m afraid he doesn’t handle emergencies well.” 

“Are you Akashi Junya-san?” a curious voice asked to his left. He turned around and bowed his head as Mamoru’s girlfriend greeted him. 

“Tsukino-san, excuse my rudeness.”

She shook her head. “No, please. Have a seat. I can understand how worried you are.” She motioned to the seat diagonal from her, against the wall. “My friend is coming back with some coffee soon.” 

Junya let out a low breath, but nodded and took a seat. “Do you by any chance know how he’s doing?” 

“He’s awake, but injured. We were told that it could’ve been much worse, but since the car that hit him was already slowing down and by the way he seemed to have hit the car, his injuries aren’t life threatening.”

He let out the breath he was holding and closed his eyes, relieved. He lifted his arm over his eyes, willing himself not to cry as he slumped back against his seat. “That’s great...so great....”

“Usagi-chan, are you sure you don’t want us to take you home yet?” the teal-haired woman asked the blonde. “You look tired.”

Usagi shook her head and sat up straight. “I’m fine. I want to wait for Mamo-chan.”

“You may have a bit to wait,” another voice interjected and Junya cracked an eye open as a tall blonde woman walked in carrying two trays of coffee. He narrowed his eyes under his arm that was still resting over his head. He’d seen her before on television: Tenoh Haruka. She was ranked as one of the best race car drivers in Japan. His eyes darted back to Mamoru’s girlfriend. How did she know Tenoh Haruka? “Ami is still explaining his injuries. Do you want some coffee?”

Usagi shook her head once more. “I’ll be fine.” She yawned and the teal-haired woman looked at Haruka as she put her arm around Usagi.

“Haruka, go and ask Mamoru-san if we can take Usagi-chan home.”

“I’ll leave these here,” Haruka said, placing the two trays of coffee on the small table in the corner. She took one of the cups and headed to the elevator. 

“Were you the ones who drove Mamoru here?” Junya asked. 

The teal-haired woman nodded. “Yes, we’re friends of Usagi. I’m Kaioh Michiru and that was my girlfriend, Tenoh Haruka.”

Junya lowered his head to give her a bow. “Thank you so much for taking care of my friend.”

“Not at all,” Michiru said. She had a kind smile on her face as Usagi seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep against her. She looked back at Usagi and carefully moved some hair from Usagi’s face. “He is a very important person to our Usagi-chan.” She looked back at Junya. “Please, have some coffee. Haruka bought it for everyone.”

“Oh...thank you.” Junya gave her a small nod and stood up to get some coffee. There was some creamer and sugar on the cardboard tray and as he stirred some in before returning to his seat. 

“Ah, Sanjouin-san, please have some coffee.” Michiru motioned to the coffee on the table again as Naozumi walked in, looking a bit tired. 

“How is Kou-chan?” Junya asked as Naozumi passed him to get a cup for himself. He didn’t bother adding anything and took a seat beside Junya. 

“I threatened to shove him in my car and take him home if he doesn’t calm down. Honestly, he’s always so dramatic,” Naozumi said. He looked past Junya, towards the sliding doors and glared. “If you won’t cause another scene, you can come in.” 

Junya turned to see Kouichi sulk as he entered. A red tint was over his tan face as he took a seat on Junya’s other side. He crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. 

“It’s amazing they didn’t call security....” Junya said under his breath as he rolled his eyes. 

“Mamoru-san will be coming down shortly.” Haruka’s voice caught their attention as she walked from the elevators. She looked at the three men. “Can one of you take him home? He wants to stay a bit longer and we should get Usagi back.” 

“I’ll drive him home,” Naozumi said. “Thank you for your help.”

“It’s no problem.” Haruka took a cup of coffee for herself and sat on Michiru’s other side, putting an arm around her. She looked over at the others. “I haven’t introduced myself. Tenoh Haruka.”

“Nice to meet you.” Several murmurs came from either side of Junya as he nodded. 

“Please don’t be too worried,” Usagi said, leaning forward. “Isono-san has an excellent doctor. Ami-chan graduated at the top of her class. She’s a certified genius.”

Junya raised a brow, but didn’t say anything. His first thought was that she was trying to reassure them and was exaggerating, but her current company: a famous race car driver and a concert violinist he now recognized from a variety show segment, made the chance that the doctor was as good as Usagi insisted. 

From what he heard from Mamoru, Usagi seemed quite average. She was a cute girl, but nothing else about her really screamed extraordinary. The way Mamoru spoke about her was how he’d expect any man in love to talk. She was a good physical therapist and was good with kids, as well as was a good partner for a man he considered his brother. 

For her to extend her own friend group like this to support them when they were dealing with an emergency made his opinion of her rise even further. 

“Once more, Tsukino-san, we appreciate your assistance tonight.”

“Of course I’d help,” Usagi said, trying to stifle another yawn. “You are Mamo-chan’s family.”

“I told you she was a good girl,” he heard Naozumi hiss to Kouichi in a quiet voice.

“I never said she wasn’t....” Kouichi hissed back.

“Usako.” Mamoru arrived and Usagi stood up.

“How’s Isono-san?”

Mamoru’s lips drew in a tight line and he shook his head. “Not happy. Ami-san was clear that he has to wear a sling and braces, but for sure what’s going to kill him is not being able to work.”

Junya grimace. As much as Zen might not have seemed like it, he was just as much a work-a-holic as Naozumi. He supposed one couldn’t have a successful business without putting your all into it. He remained seated, sipping on the remainder of his coffee as Mamoru told them about Zen’s injuries. 

Kouichi was shaking his head and Naozumi was rubbing the bridge of his nose. 

“One of you can go in now. I’m going to walk Usako and the others out.” Mamoru was helping a sleepy Usagi put her jacket back on as Haruka and Michiru gathered their things. He walked out with the three women and Junya opened his mouth to say that he’d go first as he rose to his feet.

“I’m going first.” Kouichi was already walking to the elevator. 

“You have five minutes,” Naozumi said in a strict voice. “Then I’m dragging you out.” Kouichi gave him a dismissive wave and disappeared into the elevator. 

Junya let out a low breath and returned to his seat. He ran his hand down his face as he leaned forward. “What do you think?”

“I think that Zen won’t recover easily.”

Junya closed his eyes. “His injuries aren’t life threatening.”

“But they’re lifestyle threatening,” Naozumi said in a low voice. “He works with his hands a lot. It’s going to frustrate the hell out of him to not be able to work for a while.”

“Knowing him, he’s going to push his luck and try to get back before he’s properly healed.”

He heard Naozumi let out a low growl. “We need to figure out a way to keep him from pushing himself and making it worse.” 

It was much easier said than done. The two remained seated for sometime, mulling over how to best keep their friend from ruining his body further. They didn’t hear the quiet footsteps or notice someone standing in front of them until she spoke.

“Excuse me, are you friends of Isono-san?” Both men lifted their heads. A petite woman in a white lab coat with short blue-hair was taking a sip from a paper coffee cup similar to the one he was still holding. 

“Sensei,” Naozumi rose to his feet. “Tsukino-san has already left.”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Isono-san and his visitor are yelling at each other.”

“Goddammit, Kouichi!” Naozumi took off for the elevator with Junya racing after him, giving the blue-haired doctor a small, apologetic nod. 

They exited the elevator and could already hear the yelling coming from within.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

“I’ll damn well tell you what to do if you insist on putting yourself in an early grave!” A small crowd of uncomfortable nurses and hospital aids stood at the door to one of the rooms, peering in and looking at each other as if trying to decide who should go and break it up. 

Naozumi squeezed his way through the crowd. “Excuse me. I’m sorry, I’ll take care of it!” 

“Zen, you will listen to the doctor and the physical therapists and will take time off and limit your work or, so help me, l will kill you myself!” 

Junya groaned and took a deep breath. He turned to the nurses and took off his glasses. “I’m very sorry about this. We’ll get him out of your way immediately,” he said, offering them one of the charming smiles he used at work. 

He heard a gasp from one of the nurses. “Jade-san?” 

He kept his smile and brought his finger to his lips. They whispered amongst themselves, but dispersed as the yelling inside the room died down. He briefly heard someone tell him they loved him and he tried not to cringe. 

“Junya, go ahead and take your time,” Naozumi said as he walked past with a scowling Kouichi behind him.

“Try to talk some sense into that idiot.”

“You’re an idiot!” Zen shouted from the room. Junya tilted his head back and sighed once more as he walked in. Zen was laying on the bed, his arm, neck, and leg already in braces. His face had some scratches and welts on it, but otherwise, he was awake and clearly angry. “Why did you guys tell him? You know how he is when one of us gets hurt.”

“I know, I know,” Junya said. “But he’s not wrong about you needing to be careful while recovering.”

Zen tried to snort in defiance, but winced instead. He looked away. “I already know that. I don’t need you four harping on me.”

“It’s because we know how you are,” Junya said, reaching his side. “It’s late and I know you don’t want to deal with us right now, so I’ll go home after this. Just know that if you need anything, we’ll be there.”

Zen seemed to pout. “I don’t think even death would rid me of you idiots.” Junya held back a smirk. “I’m not helpless, you know. I’ll be up and walking soon. A few weeks, max.”

Junya studied his friend in silence. Even as Zen said that, there was uncertainty in his voice and he wouldn’t look at Junya. He likely didn’t believe in his speedy recovery as much as he said he did. 

“If I was hit by a car, you’d be worse,” he told the injured man in a calm, knowing voice. “You’d pay someone to watch me and make sure I didn’t lift a finger until I was back to normal.”

Zen let out a low breath. “I’m not crazy. I’m not going to jump back into work. I know I have to properly rest and then take time with physical therapy. I know that if I push myself, it’ll just make things worse.” 

However, Zen wasn’t always good at measuring moderation. 

“You need to let your shop know. I’ll drop by in the morning. If you want, I can stop by your place. Do you need anything?”

“Phone charger, tablet, tablet charger.” Zen frowned. “Come to think of it, where is my phone?” 

“I’m sure it’s with the rest of your belongings. They’ll bring it in soon. I’ll be back tomorrow before I head to the set. Anything else?”

“Alcohol.”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “Listen, if you need to contact any of us for whatever reason, talk to the doctor.” Zen’s face twisted with irritation.

“I’m not going to ask her for anything.”

“I know it’s weird to ask your doctor for a favor, but she’s a good friend of Tsukino-san-” He was cut off by a pained groan. He jerked forward, worried Zen was in pain. “Should I get a nurse?”

“No....” Zen grumbled. “I’m fine. Just go home....” 

“He’s right, Junya, go home.” He turned around to see Naozumi at the door, looking more worn than earlier. “Mamoru’s with Kouichi. Do you want one of us to drive you home?”

“No, I’ll take a taxi. I have to get up early tomorrow anyway.” He bid the two goodnight and passed the nurse’s station, giving them a sincere thanks and apology. He didn’t complain as he took a selfie with two young nurses before heading to the lobby. 

Kouichi looked much more calm and Mamoru was leaning back against his seat, his eyes closed. He said he’d talk to them the next day before heading outside to hail a taxi in the street. It didn’t take him long to wave one down. He leaned against the side of the door and watched the city pass through the window. It was a tiring night, but at least everyone was safe and Zen would be all right. 

He thanked the taxi driver as he got out and headed to his apartment. He scanned his keycard to get into the ground floor lobby, but before he could even reach the elevators, he froze. The hair on the back of his neck rose as a middle aged man with graying hair rose from one of the waiting sofas in the lobby. 

Junya grit his teeth as he stood in place. The old man had aged, and not well. Part of him was almost happy to see it. Frowning, he looked away and continued to walk to the elevator.

“Junya!” He stopped in his tracks, his back to the old man. 

“What do you want.” It was more a demand to know than a question. 

“I need to talk to you.” Junya clenched his jaw and turned around, meeting the man’s eyes with a cold look. The last thing he wanted to do that night was to talk to his father. 

* * *

He stood in the center of the aisle, a small shopping basket gripped in his hand as he looked to his left: instant noodles of various types and flavors. He looked to his right: instant...other food. 

Sanjouin Naozumi came to the startling realization on his day off that due to being raised with gourmet chef parents and himself being more than adept at cooking, that he had no idea what to buy for Zen to just “heat up and eat”, as Junya suggested. 

It was the one thing Zen agreed with and asked Naozumi to stock his fridge at home with food that was easy to prepare; mainly instant food that he could manage with one good arm and hand. The first thing that came to mind was instant cup ramen. That was a classic staple, at least he’d heard it was. 

However, he could make Zen eat instant cup ramen while he was recovering, but how would that be good for his weak and feeble body? Variation would be best. Naozumi rubbed his chin. He could also prepare some cooked or prepared fresh fruits and vegetables to supplement the instant food. 

He shook his head. It wasn’t as if Zen was completely helpless. Kouichi would be with him for the next week getting him settled in and Zen could use the phone and order take-out to be delivered. Once Zen was able to move around on his own better, he could just go to the conbini one building over and pick up food there. 

Still, he wanted to limit how much time Zen was on his feet, knowing Zen would push himself and likely aggravate his injury. Why did his friends have to be so stubborn? 

He shook his head and abandoned the instant food aisle. He’d start with some fresh fruit; something he was more familiar with and that was healthier for Zen to eat. He stepped into the produce area and inhaled a sharp breath before ducking back into the aisle.

An old woman gave him a strange look as she passed and he looked away, trying to pretend he didn’t just dart back in after having caught sight of someone he never expected to see. Naozumi took a step forward and craned his neck to look around the aisle.

Makoto was plucking some peppers from a neat little stack two rows away. Her hair was up in a ponytail and she had a small shopping trolley next to her, already containing several produce bags. It must’ve been her day off, as well, as she was in jeans and a green knit sweater, looking completely focused on her task.

A soft smile reached his lips as he watched her pick up a bell pepper and examine it before putting into a thin, green plastic grocery bag. She placed it into her cart and pushed it forward to the next row. 

Naozumi took a deep breath, chiding himself for hiding so rudely. He took a step back into the aisle and felt the back of someone’s trolling hit his side as he ran up against it. He gasped and turned around.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there....” He stammered as he stumbled backwards, out into the aisle. The middle aged housewife whose trolley he almost knocked over merely laughed as her cheeks reddened and assured him that it was okay. 

Flustered, he lifted a hand to his hair and froze as he heard someone calling for him.

“Naozumi-san?” Oh no, had she seen him nearly tumble out into the aisle? He whirled around and caught the smiling pair of green eyes he kept seeing in his dreams as of late. 

His shoulders relaxed as he smiled, his heart quickening. “Makoto-san.” He found himself walking towards her without invitation. “Are you grocery shopping for dinner?”

She nodded. “I don’t live far from here,” she said, bagging a few tomatoes. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone out for groceries and my fridge and pantry were practically empty.” 

“Well, that’s a terrifying sight for a chef.”

She giggled and his smile widened. “I’ve just been really busy lately.”

He looked intrigued and began to pick tomatoes as he stood beside her. “Good business, I hope?”

“Yes, we have at least one big event per week recently. I’m starting to think about hiring more people for the events to give my regular staffing a break,” Makoto said with a tired sigh. “And then there is the delivery service that we’re working on.”

Naozumi let a tomato slip into the grocery bag and gave her a curious look. “Delivery service?” 

“Yes, before I started doing catering full time, I started off by selling lunch meals at several different buildings. They were really popular and some of those clients became Red Rose clients. I eventually stopped when I was putting all my energy into the catering business, but a friend asked for a favor to prepare meals for someone who was recovering from an accident, so a delivery service of sorts, but selling the boxed lunches I prepared in the past.”

Naozumi’s eyes widened. “Have you started already? How much does it cost? What do you offer?” He moved closer to her and in his earnest, he didn’t notice Makoto’s face reddening as the space between them shrank.

“Um...Naozumi-san....” She glanced away and Naozumi looked around. He was centimeters from her face and people were starting to stare. He pulled himself back and let out a little cough, avoiding her eyes.

“Sorry, I was just...I’m in a similar situation, you see.” 

Makoto knit her brows together. “Similar situation?”  
“I actually don’t live too close to here, but a friend of mine does. He’s being discharged from the hospital and is a bit in capacitated. He has a cast and brace on his arm and leg. Another friend is staying with him just to help him settle in, but neither of them are cooks.” Naozumi lifted his basket that just had the tomato in it. “We thought we could get some ready to eat meals for him, but considering he is recovering....”

“You want something healthier, right?” She deduced correctly and he nodded. 

“He’s a workaholic, so he needs all the help he can get.” Naozumi bit his lip. He didn’t want to trouble her, but getting nutritious meals delivered to Zen when they couldn’t bring him something would be a great help to all of them. “Have you started doing the delivery service yet?” 

“Unofficially, yes. When I have time, I’ll arrange for meals for some friends who are just as busy. With my friend’s request, it’ll be a trial run with a client, as I’ll be paid the going rate, not just for the ingredients.”

“How often do you deliver?” 

“It would be three times a week: Monday, Wednesday, Friday. You can order two to four pre-prepared meals for each delivery. The costs depend on what is ordered, along with the delivery fee. We of course take into consideration any allergies or dietary concerns,” she said.

Naozumi stared at her. Was this woman an angel? She appeared at just the right time, during his time of need. “You’re perfect.”

“What?” Makoto’s face reddened once more.

“I mean,  _ it’s _ perfect!” Naozumi inwardly winced. “That’s exactly what we need for Junya. Do you have a menu and pricing....” He trailed off and lowered his head before giving her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I haven’t even asked if you’re taking clients.”

Makoto’s face lit up. “We are if they’re all right with a trial run. It’ll help us test out delivery methods and time, as well as get opinions on our menu.”

Naozumi smiled, both relieved and pleased that he was making her smile. “How can I sign him up?”

Makoto glanced at her shopping trolley and chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “You’d need to select a menu and we should meet to discuss delivery times, then calculate a quote....”

He nodded, already trying to mentally figure out a suitable time he was free. “I see...of course....”

“Did you want to try out some dishes?” 

He drew his head back, surprised she asked. “You have some prepared?”

“Almost, I just needed to run out and get some things.” He looked at her trolley and made the connection.

“Right now?” Surely, he was being presumptuous to assume such a thing. She couldn't possibly be inviting him to eat her cooking. It was too good to be true.

Her smile was shy and she looked to the side. “If you aren’t too busy, I don’t live far. My apartment isn’t very big, but the kitchen-”

“I’d love to.” The words left his mouth before he could stop himself and as he stared at her, he could feel the blood raising up his face. He tried to look away and not seem to eager. “That is, if you have time. I'd hate to intrude.” 

“No, no, I’d love for you to come.” 

His heart was slamming against his chest. “Really?” 

She continued to smile and nodded her head. “Yes.”

He let out a low, nervous breath and lifted up his bag with a single tomato in it and placed it back on the pile. “Then...let me pay for your groceries.”

“What? No! I couldn’t possibly-”

“If you’re cooking for me, it’s the least I can do.” 

“Naozumi-san-”

“Makoto-san.” They stared at each other, each firm with their resolve. He watched her take a deep, resigned breath.

“How about you carry them home for me?” 

He smiled slowly, admiring the determination on her face. “All right,” he said. He put his empty shopping basket back in a stack of them and returned to her, putting his hands on the handle of her trolley. “But I get to push it around, too.” 

A wide smile filled her lovely face and she nodded. “Okay...you win.” With a pink face, she walked ahead to survey some broccoli and Naozumi leaned forward, a bit satisfied. He couldn’t believe that he’d get to eat her home cooking that night. All thoughts of her being someone else’s bride left his head as he sighed.

“Yeah, I did....”

* * *

Kouichi couldn’t believe the company accepted her proposal. He couldn’t believe he couldn't come up with a strong enough argument against it. It was like the woman built an near flawless advertising campaign single handedly to spite him. When he vented to Naozumi, he was told that he was too much into it and he likely just underestimated the woman.

Takaishi Kouichi never underestimated his enemies. She was just at a different level of wicked. 

The people around their table laughed as they chatted, celebrating the agreed upon proposal over a dinner in a private room. Beer and grilled food was plentiful as his co-workers mingled freely with the people from the advertising firm. There were at least a dozen of them seated around a low, rectangular table, on memory foam cushions that were surprisingly modern in a restaurant that salary men and women went out to for drinks after work. 

The hostess and two waiters came around with more drinks and food as the night went along and each time one of them would leave the room and close the sliding paneled door behind them, Kouichi day dreamt about following them and leaving.

Two people down and across from him, Aino Minako lifted a half filled mug of beer as she laughed and replied to one of his co-worker’s jokes. Everyone seemed taken with her just because she was a little pretty with her big blue eyes and gorgeous, flowing golden hair, and confident charisma. Kouichi felt the corner of his eye twitch. 

He tore his eyes away from her and he snatched another grilled chicken gizzard skewer from a small plate. He should’ve tried harder, done more research, and insisted the campaign was moving too quickly, but despite his efforts, even he couldn’t find a suitable enough reason to put a stop to it. 

It must’ve been obvious that it was a touchy subject for him, as few people, aside from his boss telling him to drink more and relax, addressed him. He remained seated in the corner and while normally, he’d be in the center of it, being his naturally charming self, this time he was more than happy to be left alone. 

Maybe it was because his mind was elsewhere, still concerned with Zen’s recovery.

The man was handful when they brought him home and while Kouichi offered to stay another week, Zen had thrown a fit saying he wanted his alone time to concentrate and that he was tired of Kouichi hovering around him like a paranoid helicopter parent. The others had agreed to let Zen have his freedom for the time being and that night, Kouichi would be heading to his place as opposed to Zen’s. 

He pursed his lips and wondered if he should at least call and make sure his friend was eating. Then again, Naozumi’s catering friend’s company had been delivering meals to him and they were delicious. He’d had a chance to eat a little while he was staying with Zen and Naozumi had assured them that Red Rose Catering was taking into consideration the nutritional needs of the patient. 

Junya was relieved, as it was well known Zen was both a picky and unhealthy eater. 

“No, no, we’ll take care of the bill.” He snapped out of his thoughts and glanced around the table. From where he sat at the far corner of the low table, he noticed that the food was all gone and they were starting to get ready to leave by gathering their things. 

_ Finally _ , he thought. He was more than done with overhearing praise and high hopes for the ad campaign. He reached for his glass of beer and downed the rest of it before reaching for his phone. His jacket was hanging on a wall peg and as he pulled it off, he could smell the lingering scent of grilled meat and tobacco on it from the restaurant. 

He made a mental note to go and get it dry cleaned before he wore it again. 

“Takaishi-kun.” His boss patted him on the shoulder as he stumbled forward. “Call some taxis for us.”

“Of course, sir.”

“And for our friends from the Lunar Agency.” 

The corner of his eye twitched once more, but he was in no place to reject the order. “Yes,  _ Kacho _ .” 

He slipped his jacket on and grabbed his bag. He slipped out of the room, telling the remaining people inside that he was going to wave some taxis down to take them home, since it was getting late. 

The cool evening breeze felt nice against his flushed, alcohol heated skin. He headed down the alley to the main street to wave down some taxis. The first one that arrived pulled up and he had the driver park, waiting for his co-workers and the agency reps to stumble out into the street. 

He called them over, directing them to the taxis he’d hailed before going to speak to each driver with a request for them to wait and the number of people he was calling taxis for. 

As he reached the sixth one, he checked his watch and stepped back. At this time, there were many patrons leaving the restaurants and bars. It would start to get difficult to flag down another taxi. He contemplated taking the trains, as they were still running. 

“You’re surprisingly quiet tonight,” a voice said behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it belonged to.

“Oh, you noticed,” he said, making sure to keep his annoyed voice just amiable enough so anyone who overheard wouldn’t think he was being rude. “Should I be flattered?”

“Heh.” Even with his back turned to her, he could almost see the troublesome, overconfident women smirking. “Hardly, though it is surprising.”

“How so?” He stepped aside, taking a few steps closer to the building as a taxi driver helped one of his co-workers into the vehicle. 

“You don’t like my proposal, right? It must’ve killed you to know it was approved and so well received despite all your complaints.”

“Being critical of any proposal for a new project launch is important. Am I just supposed to sit back and let you do whatever you want?” 

“It’s just odd that you haven’t said much the last few meetings.” She stood behind him, her arms crossed. He caught her eyes as she glanced over, a smirk still on her lips. “You must realize by now how good I am, right?”

He raised a brow. “We’ll see when the project launches.” 

He looked straight ahead, but not before noticing her face wrinkle up. Was she displeased with his answer? Good. 

The taxis filled slowly with their co-workers arranging who would go with whom and to where. His mind went back to taking the train and stopping by Zen’s to check on him, but perhaps he should just call. 

“I was just expecting more push back from you, if I’m being honest.” He turned his head to his right. Minako was looking straight ahead, her brows a bit furrowed. The corners of his lips tugged upwards a bit. Was it just him, or was she pouting?

He turned towards her and leaned closer, his own grin on his face. “Oh, did you want me to pay more attention to you?” He noticed the slightest clench of her jaw as she kept her eyes diverted. Kouichi moved closer when she didn’t answer and lifted his arm, resting it on the wall just above her head. “If I remember correctly, I offered a few weeks ago, but you flatly rejected me.”

She turned her head away in distaste, but even in the dim street light, he could make out the slight reddish tint on her soft cheeks. Was it just alcohol? 

“And I’ll reject you again, Takaishi-san, so I hope you don’t ask,” she said in a sharp voice. “It’s best you don’t read too much into it. I just value criticism from my clients. It helps identify possible weaknesses in the campaign I’m working on. This is purely business.” 

He narrowed his eyes and let out a little scoff. He pushed himself off the wall and turned back to the street. “Then my silence shouldn’t bother you. If I have something to say, I’ll say it.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’m not shy with my words.”

“Good.”

“Great.” 

The sound of passing cars filled the silence between them, neither looking at each other as they stared out into the street. Minako was getting into one of the taxis and he wasn’t making a move to do so, either. 

The last yellow taxi rolled up and the back window rolled down. His boss peered out at them and gave him a quizzical expression. “Takaishi-kun, why are you just standing there? There is only one taxi left; are you sharing with Aino-san?” 

The two remaining on the curb turned to the side. Of the six taxi that had arrived, only one remained and the driver was standing by the door to the back seat, holding it open and waiting for them. 

Kouichi let out a heavy breath and motioned towards it with his arm. “Please, go ahead. I’ll wave down another.” Minako snapped her head towards him and seemed to eye him with suspicion. He frowned. What exactly did she think of him? “Do you plan on taking the train instead?”  
His voice was sharper than he thought and it seemed to make her scowl. She turned her head away again. “You should take it. You went through all the trouble of calling them over for us, anyway.”

“It was the request of my kacho; I insist. Take the taxi.”

“No-”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think of me, but I’m not about to leave a woman standing in the street at night after drinking just because I think she’s annoying and overconfident,” Kouichi said. He began to walk away. “Just get in and get home safe. We need you for that campaign.”

He made it two steps when the rev of a car and an honk reached his ears. He looked back over his shoulder, catching an unexpected look of apology on her face before she turned towards the street, at the yellow sports car that pulled up. She lowered the arm that was reaching for him as the tinted windows on the flashy car rolled down. 

“Oi, Minako-chan,” someone called from inside the car. “Need a ride?” 

She glanced at him. It was quick, but he noticed. She took a deep breath and puffed out her chest before putting on a wide smile. “Haruka-san! Do you mind?” She seemed to bounce gleefully over to the car. As she reached the passenger’s door, she looked towards Kouichi. “Looks like I don’t need the taxi.”

She looked almost smug as she got in. Kouichi tried to keep himself from glaring. He marched towards the remaining taxi, taking a moment to glance into the sports car just as the window rolled back up. 

The door closed shut as he took his seat inside the taxi. He stared at the front of the car, watching the sports car drive off. He recognized the driver, though it seemed the driver didn’t recognize him. Wasn’t that Tenoh Haruka? Tsukino-san’s friend? 

His brows knit together. What kind of relationship did that overconfident advertising rep have with Tenoh-san? And wasn’t Tenoh-san involved with that pretty teal-haired woman? He lifted his hands to his head and twisted his face. 

Why did he even care what kind of relationship she had? 

“Sir, where do you need to go?” 

He raised his head, noticing the taxi driver glancing back at him from the rear view mirror. Kouichi let out a low breath as the disturbing thought that he was too curious about Aino Minako’s relations filled his mind. This wasn’t happening. He shook his head. 

He could check on Zen in the morning; right now, he just wanted to go home.

* * *

He hadn’t told the others and that in itself was rare. They already had their hands full making sure Zen didn’t injure himself further; he didn’t want to add on to their stresses by telling them that he met with his father. 

His brothers knew about his relationship with the estranged man and he knew that they would be completely against his father’s requests. If Junya was being honest with himself, he also wanted nothing more than to deny his father.

He sat in his apartment, trying to keep his head level after a long bath. A damp, white towel was over his head and he found himself too lazy to dry his hair. The stylist on set the next morning could deal with it, he figured. 

Junya sat on the floor between his sofa and the coffee table, where a laptop and his phone were charging beside a letter and hospital paperwork. He ran a hand down his face; he needed to discuss with his manager and agency if he was going to go through with it, but at this point, he still wasn’t sure if he should. 

After all, donating a kidney was no small feat. 

He couldn’t help but resent his father further. If it wasn’t bad enough that his father was negligent and hated him for not splitting his inheritance from his late mother, the fool was a heavy drinker with health problems he ignored. It got to the point where he needed a transplant and the best matches were always from close, blood relatives. 

The old bastard had two other children with his former mistress and now wife, but they were underaged. Plus, he actually cared for them. Why would he risk the health of the children he loved when there was a spare who ‘owed him’. 

Junya glared at the medical files and forms. Owed him. His father actually said to give him a kidney because he  _ owed him  _ for not giving him some of his mother’s money. 

“Shina-chan doesn’t work. If I die, who will take care of your brother and sister?” Then his bastard father laid on more guilt. 

“You’re the one who decided to marry a gold digger and let her have your kids,” he had said in return. It was true; the old man was weak. He couldn’t handle a woman like his late mother, so he went after someone who would be completely dependent on and never questioned him. That worked out well, didn’t it? “Why don’t you get one of them to hand over a kidney.”

He’d gotten up and headed to the elevator, but his father practically threw himself at him. “You cold, callous brat! You left me for dead after your bitch of a mother-”

He whirled around and grabbed his father by the collar of his jacket, lifting him off the ground. “You never speak of her again or I’ll dance on your grave in front of your precious whore wife and kids.” He shoved his father back, sending him on to the couch in his building’s lobby. 

“Dad!” A voice shouted from around the corner and he looked up to see a young man in a blazer and plaid pants, a uniform to a school he couldn’t identify, rushed from around the corner. He ran to the old man’s side and helped him up. 

“Leave him alone!” He felt small hands hit his side and he looked down to see a girl in a sailor uniform, likely still in middle school, glaring at him with tears in her eyes. “He only wanted your help!” 

Junya had tilted his head back and sighed. Great, his idiot father dragged his half-siblings along as part of the plan. 

“Take your father and get out of my building. If I see any of you three around here again, I’ll call security.” He turned around and, stepping past the young blonde and headed to the elevator.

“Wait!” The son, who shared his sister’s dark eyes, but had brown hair similar to their father, went after him. “Brother, please-”

“I’m not your brother,” Junya had told him, barely sparing him a glance. He readied his keycard, already looking forward to a strong drink when he got to his condo.

“If he doesn’t get a transplant, he’ll die! He only has a year at most!” 

He had clenched his hands, holding back from responding with a cold ‘that’s not my problem’. 

“Jade-san, please!” He heard shuffling and he looked over his shoulder. The son was on the floor, prostrating as his sister looked confused and slowly went down on her knees to follow and beg. “Neither Aya or I match! You’re the only one who might have a chance!” He reached for his bag and fished out some papers. “At least check!” 

He was in tears and his sister was red in the face, still bent over the floor, begging him. 

That was his first time meeting his half-siblings. 

He walked over and picked up the papers, moving them in his hands as he glanced at what they were. “Get up,” he told them in a low voice. “And get out.” 

He took the papers and headed to the elevator, refusing to look back at them. He had no intention of aiding his father, but the other day, those same annoying half-siblings appeared in the lobby of his agency, demanding to speak to him.

Two uniformed teens were making a fuss just as Junya left a meeting and he regretted not taking his manager’s offer for a ride to Zen’s. They caught him just as he was leaving and he had no choice but to speak to them. 

He managed to get one of the small meeting rooms at the agency and loomed above them. 

“How the hell do you know where I work?”

“You’re Jade! Everyone knows you’re under the management of the Green Rock Agency,” his half-sister, Aya he learned, said. She seemed bold, or at least tried to be. “Everytime we went to your condo, you weren’t there and security wouldn’t even let us in.”

“Get to the point, what do you want,” Junya said.

“Brother, I mean...Jade-san,” Hiroki, his half-brother, looked awkward saying the name. “It’s been over a week; the hospital says you haven’t called. Nothing was filed to have you checked for a match....” He shifted in his seat. 

“I don’t plan on getting checked.”

“What!?” Aya shot up from her seat, the charms dangling on her bag clinking as she rose. She paled. “Why not?” 

Junya crossed his arms over his chest. He told them that they were estranged, that he wanted nothing to do with his father, and that he owed the old man nothing. Aya faltered and began to cry. Hiroki looked at a complete loss and shook his head.

“Then, we’ll take this to the media!” he announced. His defiance was surprising. “If you don’t at least get checked, we’ll tell the media that Tsugihara Jade is going to let his father die!”

He stared at the two teenagers. They didn’t even know his real name. He lifted his hand to his forehead. “You little brats don’t even know a damn thing,” he said. “Did you even know he had a child from a previous marriage?” 

“Of course we knew!” Aya said. She lifted up her phone and he found a picture of himself from his last drama as her wallpaper. Her face reddened once more. “When you debuted, I told everyone you were my brother, but they just called me a liar because you said you only had brothers in an interview!” 

“I do only have brothers,” Junya said. “Four, and I’m getting a sister-in-law soon. None of them like your father, either.” His words look like it stung them and he let out a heavy breath. His half-siblings were annoying, but they weren’t terrible. How did those two kids become loyal to such a trash father? “Listen, if you me leave alone, I’ll consider getting it checked.”

He regretted those words, but he supposed it was the very least he could do next to nothing. He spent considerable time researching what went into kidney transplants and had even sent an email to Mizuno-sensei, who had arranged for him to meet with a specialist peer of hers for more in depth questions. 

“While it is ultimately up to you to make the decision, Akashi-san, you should be aware that there are always risks involved,” she told him. 

He was healthy - he had to be for his job, but there was still a risk. It was small, but he could still die. 

He never considered his own mortality before, even when his mother was dying. He was young, he had money, he didn’t have many vices. He didn’t consider himself invulnerable, but had faith that he would live a long life. However, the more he looked into the kidney transplant, the more he didn’t want to do it. 

His eyes moved to the business card on the keyboard of his laptop. He stared at it for a moment longer before picking up his mobile phone and dialing numbers. It wasn’t too late; he hoped he was able to get through. 

“Hello, this is the Takamura Office of Law. My name is Hino Rei, how can I help you?” He closed his eyes as he heard her familiar, albeit formal, voice. “Hello?”

He opened his eyes. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I received your business card some time ago. I had introduced myself as Jade.” There was a long pause on the other line and he wondered if she was going to hang up on him. 

“Jade-san, the actor.” Somehow her formal voice sounded annoyed and he found himself grinning just a bit. At least she remembered him. “How can I help you?” 

“When we met you mentioned that your office worked with wills. I’d like to set up an appointment to discuss the creation of one.”

“Oh....” She sounded surprised and he wondered if she thought he was calling to ask her out. He wished that were the case. “I can set you up with one of my colleagues who is well versed in the matter. Is there a specific time frame?”

“As soon as possible.” 

“Midorikawa-san is available Friday afternoon and early evening.”

“Early evening if possible. I end at six and it may take a bit to get to your offices.” 

“Give me a moment to confirm.” He heard muffled speaking on the other line before she picked up again. “Midorikawa-san will be able to see you then.”

“Thank you, Hino-san.”

“Midorikawa-san did ask if there is a specific reason you need a will drafted so soon.” 

He hesitated. “I just came to the realization that I should properly prepare for death. That’s all. Thank-”

“You don’t have to do this.” Her voice was rushed and Junya moved his phone closer, unsure if he was wearing things. “We have services we can direct you to if you need help.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Pardon me?” 

She seemed to hesitate and measure her words. “We have company protocol if we suspect a possible suicide risk. Jade-san...whatever you are going through, please reconsider.”

She had started by telling him it was company protocol, but he could sense some sincerity in her voice. He smiled a bit and leaned back against his sofa.

“Thank you, Hino-san, for the concern, but I don’t plan on doing any such thing. You see, my estranged father needs a kidney and I may be his only match. I’ve started doing research on the subject and have been made aware of the possible risks.” He lowered his eyes as he squeezed his phone. “I’m not married and I don’t have any children, so...if anything happens to me, I want to make sure that the kidney is all my father will get.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone in this fic is living a romantic comedy and here Jadeite is, in the middle of a Korean drama. Thanks for reading, everyone! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Baking was a meticulous art form. To get the right taste, consistency, and shape, one had to be exact with their measurements and their skill well-honed to get what they wanted. It was different from cooking, where liberties could be made to slightly change an aspect to the dish in order to make it taste better to an individual. Naozumi grew up with chef parents. He knew this.

As a result, he was a meticulous person by nature, whether it be baking or on running a business. He should’ve been more attentive to what he was doing and where he was. He should’ve taken advantage of the moment he’d never get again.

He should’ve looked around to see if he could find pictures of the lucky man who stole Kino Makoto’s heart before they even crossed paths. 

“Boss,” someone’s hesitant voice cut through his thoughts. He lifted his head and saw one of his employees across from him, looking concerned. His employee’s eyes darted down to the mini-cakes he was frosting. “Isn’t that a bit much?”

Naozumi looked down at his work and balked. He pulled the pastry bag away and stared, dumbfounded, at the swirl of buttercream that was double the height of the actual pastry. Had he been so wrapped up in his frustration that he couldn’t even pipe frosting? 

“Everything okay, Sanjouin-san?” 

“Yes, I just...didn’t get enough sleep the last few nights.” Naozumi lowered the bag, placing it on the table top next to the tray of mini-cakes. “Sato-san, please take over. I’m going to take a short break.”

The other patissier nodded and watched Naozumi head to his office. Once inside, he closed the door and sat on the chair behind his small desk, leaning back and closing his eyes. 

Just a few days earlier, when he met with Makoto at the grocery store and went over to her apartment, he thought he’d made the right decision. First, it was for Zen’s sake and Makoto could get the billing information, review the menu with him, and go over the delivery schedule. Second, he’d been wanting to try food from the famed Red Rose Catering for a while now and getting a taste from the owner and head chef herself was the best he could ask for.

He tried to bury his more selfish motives. 

A look into a person’s home was a look into them and Makoto’s humble apartment reflected her. It was in an apartment building; late 20th century, so it wasn’t exactly new, but it was far from run down. She had a two bedroom with a wide living and dining area and a galley kitchen. There were numerous potted plants everywhere that he amused himself with the thought that she was living in a jungle. 

But the overall atmosphere was comfortable and warm. The kitchen looked to have been in the middle of being used and when they arrived, Makoto went straight to the kitchen to get him some tea before putting on her apron and picking up where she left off. 

Naozumi wanted to join her in the kitchen. It was his second home, after all, but it seemed too narrow and he worried he’d get in the way. He chided himself for entertaining the day dream of her bumping into him and instigating physical contact. He had gulped down his tea. Was it that long that he’d been single that he was so desperate for touch? 

“We’re thinking of going with simple Western style food. Pasta, some vegetables, and lean protein. Nothing too complicated and easy to transport and then store and reheat,” Makoto was saying as her back was to him. She hovered over the stove as he watched her from the breakfast bar behind her. 

He smiled to himself. She looked completely in her element cooking. 

“Zen loves Western food, so that’ll be perfect,” Naozumi said. 

“What about you?” Makoto glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Tonight’s chicken piccata. Is that all right?”

“I happen to love chicken piccata. How’d you know?” He threw her cheeky grin and watched with pleasure as her cheeks reddened and she turned back to the stove. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Naozumi-san.” 

He could’ve sat at the small dining table and waited for her or on the sofa and watched some television. Instead, he remained on the stool, leaning over the counter listening to her chatter away about prospective meal plans. 

“With how busy you are, do you still cook at home often?” He himself rarely baked at home. Why bother when he could use the professional equipment at the bakery and looked at sweets the entire day?

Makoto pursed her lips. “When I’m trying something new, I make it here. But, you’re right, I haven’t been cooking at home recently.” She sighed. “We’re busy and that’s great, but that doesn’t leave me time to try new things like before.”

“Hmm...I find myself doing test runs of items at the bakery. By the time I get home, I’m exhausted.”

She laughed and he smiled at the sound of her voice. He loved that laugh. “I completely understand! Our hours aren’t always set, but since you’re on your feet a lot and are rushing here and there.... I can’t count the amount of times I’ve just fallen on to my bed still wearing my uniform and slept until morning.” 

He wanted to tell her that he hoped she’d take better care of herself, but found himself hesitating. Perhaps it wasn’t his place. Besides, there was someone else whose place it was. 

Naozumi perked up and looked around. Come to think of it, the apartment didn’t feel like two people lived there. Makoto had to go into her small closet to fetch a pair of mens slippers for him. “Do you live alone?” He found himself speaking for he stopped himself. He winced and lifted his hands. “Sorry, that’s a personal question-”

Makoto shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ve been living alone since I was in my early teens.” She gave him a wry smile and he figured she probably saw the look of concern on his face, so she elaborated. “My parents passed away in a plane crash when I was eight. I lived with my mother’s friend for a while, but when I figured I could handle being on my own, I left. This place was my parents’ and my mom’s friend, Auntie, she had everything stored and rented it out. When I said I wanted to move back in, she arranged all of it and gave me the account with the rent money. It’s what I used to help with the business when I started.” She gave him a reassuring look. “Auntie still comes by. She lives down the street and is one of my best customers.” 

His heart settled, relieved to know she was well taken care of. “I’m sorry to hear about your parents, but I’m glad there was someone who took care of you.”

Makoto nodded and put a pan of chicken in the oven. “I’m really lucky. All the people around me are amazing.” She wore a thoughtful smile and while he knew he should’ve been happy for her, his heart ached. 

Her fiance must’ve been amazing, too.

Naozumi lowered his eyes and looked at the half filled cup of chilled, roasted barley tea. He wanted to pull his mind off the thought and decided to get down to business. “Speaking of people around us, my friend was discharged the other day and it’s his dominant side that’s been injured. Western food may be best if he can use a fork or spoon with it.” 

They dove into the menu and Makoto worked around his concerns. Once the menu was set, it was on to scheduling delivery times. Makoto agreed to do it for two weeks to see how it worked out and if Zen liked the service. 

He signed the order form just as the chicken was ready and they could focus their attention on the food. When Makoto placed the finished dish on the dining table, Naozumi praised her plating. 

Makoto turned red. “The plating isn’t as important as how it tastes!” 

He grinned and shook his head. “My parents are gourmet chefs,” he reminded her. “Plating is important.” 

She opened her mouth, whether to thank him or tell him to eat first, when her phone rang. She looked up from where she stood beside the table. She walked to the kitchen counter and picked up her phone. 

“Naozumi-san,” she said as she lifted her phone after one glance at the screen. “Please go ahead and start. I need to take this.” 

He nodded and tentatively reached for the serving utensils as she swept past him, heading towards the bedrooms. He glanced over his shoulder as the door closed. He should’ve been focused on the delicious smelling food in front of him, but instead, he wondered if her fiance was calling. 

Why else would she rush to the bedroom? He couldn’t help but sulk at the reminder that the amazing chef was taken. 

As he piled some pasta and a piece of chicken on his place, the bedroom door opened and Makoto scurried out, towards a desk in the corner where she kept work papers. 

“I got it. Can you text me the address and time and date?” She was speaking informally. Whoever she was speaking to was someone close. “No, it’s no problem at all!” Makoto laughed and smiled as she held the phone to her ears. “I’m happy to do it. Thank you for thinking of me for this. Okay...okay...sounds good. Yes. I’ll see you this weekend! Bye!”

She turned around and Naozumi immediately put on an energetic face, ignoring that she was seeing someone that weekend. “More work?” 

Makoto looked pleased as she slipped her phone in her pocket and nodded. “Yes and it’s appreciated.” She took a seat across from him. “Did you try it yet? How is it?” She looked eager to hear what he thought and he forced himself to focus. Naozumi took a bite.

He tried to keep from smiling. It was better than he expected. 

It wasn’t until he was walking to the station that he realized he never took the chance to look at the various pictures she had nestled between plants. He kicked himself. It was the best, and probably only, chance he’d get to see how Makoto’s fiance looked like. He wanted to know the face of the man whose existence he unwillingly and inappropriately disliked. 

Since that evening, he’d been plagued with regret. 

Everytime Zen called him to tell him that he got a meal and was pleased, not only with the flavor, but the sheer quantity of food, Naozumi could only say he’d pass it on to Makoto, even though he hadn’t contacted her since he had dinner at her place. Compared to him, who had been hiding his nervousness going to her apartment alone, together, she seemed calm and relaxed. It was clear that she saw him as a culinary peer, maybe a cooking friend, but that was it. She had no interest outside of that. 

“Sanjouin-san.” He heard a small knock at the door. “Kino-san from Red Rose Catering is here to see you.”

His eye flashed open as he pushed himself up and stared at the door, as if unsure what he was hearing. “What?”

“Kino-san from Red Rose Catering,” Takeda said from behind the door. “She’s waiting for you out front.” 

Naozumi stood up and tugged his uniform top down to straighten it out. He rounded his desk and headed to the door, pausing in front of the mirror on the wall to give himself a once over before finally opening it.

“Thank you, Takeda-san.” Naozumi gave his employee a small, professional nod, and walked past. His heart was slamming against his chest. What was she doing there? They didn’t have any business related meetings scheduled. It certainly wasn’t just to see him. She was busy...and engaged.

He emerged on to the front of the bakery, ignoring the line that nearly reached the door. His eyes were almost instantly caught by the familiar figure standing to one side, holding a paper bag with a red rose on one side and shifting from foot to foot.

She had an emerald coat on, but left it open, revealing her own white chef’s uniform. She caught his eyes just as soon as he arrived and her face brightened for just a moment, before her shoulder shrunk. He tilted his head to the side. Something was bothering her. 

“Makoto-san,” he said. It was still morning “What are you doing here?”

“Naozumi-san,” Makoto’s brows furrowed and she looked apologetic. He did not like that look. “I’m so sorry. I’ve made a mistake.” 

His heart sank. What mistake? Did her fiance find out that he went to her place? Was he upset? Did he yell at Makoto for doing something so innocent? He frowned and looked around. “Please follow me to my office, we can talk there-”

“No, no I can’t.” He extended his arm to usher her to follow, but she shook her head and stepped back. His eyes crinkled up. She was backing away from him. “I don’t have time. I have to get to work soon, so I just wanted to come by and clear this up.” 

He could hear what would come next:  _ Naozumi-san, I don’t want to see you anymore.  _ He swallowed hard and steeled himself. The sudden thought of never seeing her again filled him with dread and he readied his own words to counter hers, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

“I’m afraid I made a mistake with Zen-san’s order.” 

“I lo-what?” He snapped his mouth closed. His face heated up. What did he almost just blurt out under stress?

Makoto didn’t seem to notice as she dug into her tote slung on her shoulder. She pulled out two order forms. “I didn’t realize Zen-san is Isono-san,” she said revealing the forms. One had his signature and the other had her own initials. “I didn’t pay attention to the addresses until I got the bill from my courier and called my friend who put in the order. I’ve been sending two sets of orders to him this entire time.” 

Naozumi watched her as she looked over the forms, flustered and red-faced. “Double the order....” He remembered that Zen did say he didn’t need to order so much food. Sure, Kouichi had been there last week and eaten some, but Naozumi just assumed it was a large portion. 

Makoto continued to apologize. “I’m so sorry, I’ve troubled you. Please accept this.” She lifted the paper bag in her hand and Naozumi looked at it. “A check for the difference is there along with some parmigiana I was testing.” 

It took him a moment to put together what was going on. He lifted his hand and placed it over hers, lowering the paper bag and making her meet his eyes. “Makoto-san...first, what do you mean double order?” 

Makoto took a deep breath. “After we agreed on your order, a friend of mine called about meal deliveries for a patient of hers that wouldn’t be able to use chopsticks. I didn’t realize that her patient, Isono-san, is your Zen-san, so I charged you both. I called her and we discussed it. She said if it’s fine with you, she’ll pay for half, as she has some agreement with Isono-san.”

Naozumi narrowed his eyes. “So...this is Zen’s doctor who requested this?” 

Makoto nodded. “Perhaps you’ve heard of her. Mizuno Ami; she’s a doctor at the university hospital.” 

Naozumi’s eyes went wide. “Mizuno-sensei?” The calm, almost stoic looking woman in the lab coat immediately came to mind. 

Makoto nodded once more. “Yes, so if I split the cost, I’m refunding you half of what you paid.”

Naozumi shook his head. “Makoto-san.” His voice was calmer as he kept his hand on hers and brought his other one beneath to cup them. “We agreed that I’d be paying mainly for the ingredients. I should at least pay the cost for those.”

“But it was my mistake and I’ve troubled Isono-san-”

“It worked out well as long as it’s corrected now,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “A friend of ours was staying with him to help him adjust last week, so he ate whatever spare food there was. Please keep the money.” 

She looked hesitant and so Naozumi gently pried her long, slender fingers from the handle of the paper bag and reached inside. He found the envelope with the check and presented it to her.

“Naozumi-san....”

“I’ll gladly accept the parmigiana instead.” He held her eyes and watched as her pale face began to warm up. She gazed down at the envelope he was holding out for her and, as if entranced, lifted her hands to accept it. 

His smile widened and she tilted her head up to look at him. “Thank you, Naozumi-san.” 

His heart quickened. 

“Mako-”

A beeping came from her bag and she stood up straight. She gasped and shoved the envelope into her tote. “I need to go! We have a massive dinner to cater at the Hilton in Shinjuku tonight.” She took a step back and bowed. “Sorry for taking up your time, Naozumi-san! Thank you again for understanding!” She bowed once more before whirling around and running out the door.

Naozumi was left standing near the seating area, staring at the door she rushed out of, holding a paper bag. He let out a low, heavy breath and lowered his head. He’d almost ruined it all by blurting out that he was in love with her. He needed to be more careful the next time they met.

He turned around and stopped. Half his staff was standing behind the counter, smiling from ear to ear. He drew his head back and frowned. “What is it?”

“Is that your girlfriend, boss?” 

“She’s really pretty.” 

Naozumi frowned, more because she wasn’t his girlfriend than because they assumed incorrectly. “She’s a  _ business associate _ ,” he said. “She’s Kino Makoto, the owner and head chef of Red Rose Catering.”

As expected for a staff knowledgeable on the subject, they immediately looked impressed. “Oh wow....” Takeda gave him a thumbs up. “Then, good luck, Sanjouin-san!” 

Naozumi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I’m going to put this in my office. Everyone, get back to work.” He walked past them, trying to get to the back without looking suspiciously awkward. As he peeked into his bag to see the large take-out container she’d prepared for him, he furrowed his brows, being reminded that Zen received double the food due to a request from Mizuno-sensei.

Why was Mizuno-sensei ordering food for Zen?

* * *

He stared at his phone, unable to believe her audacity. The unknown number that appeared had caused him to ignore it, as per usual. He didn’t pick up if he didn’t know the number. He believed that if it was important, a voice mail would be left. Apparently, the person who called felt it was important.

“Isono-san, this is Mizuno Ami. The doctor from the hospital. It seems I’ve troubled you lately with the food order and will be dropping by this afternoon. Mamoru-san has provided me with your address and the code to enter your building. Thank you for your time.” 

First of all, how dare Mamoru give out his address and building code to some random woman. He would certainly get a sternly worded phone call about this later tonight. So what if Mizuno-sensei was his fiancee’s friend or that Mizuno-sensei personally took care of him while at the hospital from the moment he was brought in on a stretcher to when he was wheeled out, complaining about how he didn’t need a wheelchair. 

Just because Mamoru and Mizuno-sensei might have been friends, didn’t mean  _ he  _ was friends with Mizuno-sensei. She didn’t even send the food they agreed upon.

When he was still at the hospital, he was so frustrated by his inability to move how he wanted to that he began to pick at things that didn’t even matter. He happened to target the food he was served while she was in the room, doing a routine check. 

“Isono-san, please bare with the food. It has been prepared with your health in mind,” she said, scribbling into his folder. He lifted his chin, defiant.

“Clearly my health, but not my taste buds.”

“If you don’t eat, your body cannot heal,” Mizuno-sensei said. She lowered his folder. “Isono-san, you are the dear friend of _ my  _ dear friend’s soon to be husband. I gave them my word that I’d make sure you were taken care of so you can get back to your job as soon as possible.” 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew that. Mamoru and the others were nagging him to listen to Mizuno-sensei for his own sake, but he was too frustrated and irritated to do so. 

“You’re already checking up on me all the time,” Zen snapped and shot her a glare. “I know I’m the first person you check on when you come in and the last person you see when you clock out.” 

It was difficult for him to sleep in such a strange place while sporting a dull, throbbing pain across his body. He’d often wake up at the softest sound and he knew just how attentive she was being. He’d woken up numerous times to see her standing there, checking his folder, adjusting his monitors, and the like. 

A few times, he noticed she was in her regular clothes with just her lanyard and badge, and purse and coat under one arm. She was getting ready to leave, yet she’d come to check on him first. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate her concern. He didn’t think it was necessary, but he applauded her devotion to her friend by being devoted to him. 

“That’s good. If anything happens, please call me immediately,” he heard her say one night. The room was dark and outside, all he could see were the few lights from the next building. 

“Yes, Mizuno-sensei.” He cracked one heavy eye open and tried to make out the blurs to his right. She’d changed out of flats and into small heeled shoes that matched the cobalt blue of her blouse. He didn’t remember noticing that under her lab coat that day. Her straight legged slacks were camel and matched her bag, while a heavy black wool coat was under her arm. 

He remembered the first day they met at his atelier and his first impression of her: proper. It changed a bit to ‘responsible’ and he closed his eyes to get some rest, unknowingly looking forward to the next day.

Her visits broke the monotony of his time at the hospital. His friends and co-workers all worked during the day. They’d stop by after work, just as visiting hours were over to check on him. The only visitor who came during the day was his employee on maternity leave and that was once. The nurses seemed to avoid him, as he complained a lot, and part of him wondered if Mizuno-sensei came so often because she wanted to spare the nurses having to deal with him. 

Zen scoffed. It wasn’t as if he wanted to be stuck in the hospital with half his body bandaged up. After one of his tirades, Mizuno-sensei approached him with a serious look on her face.

“Right now, the more you move, the more likely you’ll hurt yourself further.” Her voice was low and he could’ve sworn she was glaring at him. He froze mid-tirade. “If you want to leave soon, behave yourself and rest.” 

Zen had unknowingly leaned back into his bed. “I...I still don’t like the food.” 

“Then once you are discharged, since you will have difficulty preparing meals, I will arrange for a catering service until you can use your arm and shoulder.” He thought it was an empty promise, but even that option was better than cup ramen, having to go buy food, or Kouichi’s painfully limited repertoire of dishes. 

It became a personal joke to him to bring it up everytime she came. 

“Don’t forget about my food,” he’d say as he made a show of eating his hospital food. 

“I won’t,” she’d reply in a deadpan voice.

“Make sure my food can be easy to eat with my non-dominant hand!”

“It will be.”

“Cake would be good, too!”

“In limited amounts.” 

Even as Mamoru rolled him out the hospital doors, he had butted into her conversation with Usagi-san to remind her about the food. She said she would call her friend that evening to schedule delivery. She must’ve forgotten and that was the reason she called him. Otherwise, why else would she trouble herself to come all the way over. 

If Naozumi also forgot to schedule food for him, he would’ve been in a much angrier mood. 

Zen sunk back into the electronic wheelchair Junya got him. Since his right arm and shoulder were still healing and he wore a brace, it would’ve been difficult using a traditional wheelchair to get around his apartment with just one arm. His legs were spared any broken bones, but he’d somehow dislocated his kneecap, so he was to wear a brace for six weeks on his right leg. 

He could at least transfer himself on and off the wheelchair. Unfortunately, it was also the fall and the temperature was dropping. With the brace, he’d been wearing shorts. His heating bill was going to be enormous. 

Zen checked his phone again, this time to check the time. The catering from Red Rose usually arrived around that time and he’d have to ask the delivery person to put the boxes in his fridge. It was just easier than doing it himself and having to maneuver into his kitchen. 

He didn’t want to admit that having Kouichi around to help him was convenient, but if he voiced it, Kouichi would stay for another week or longer. Zen shuddered. He couldn’t stand another week of Kouichi living with him. He was technically ‘working offsite’, so there were constant conference call meetings and even if he holed himself in the spare room with the door closed, Zen could still hear him and found it difficult to concentrate.

It was already frustrating enough dealing with trying to use his left hand to do the simplest things on a table or hunt-and-peck his laptop keyboard. His productivity was shot and he was still at least three or four days behind on emails. 

He leaned back against the chair’s seat and took a deep breath. A sound echoed through his apartment. His phone began to vibrate and the app that connected to his apartment’s doorbell opened up. He glanced down, expecting to see the white shirt of the delivery person, and instead saw blue. 

“Isono-san,” Mizuno-sensei spoke through the little speaker. “I’m here. Mamoru-san said that you could just remotely unlock the door.” 

Curse that Mamoru. 

Zen pressed a green ‘talk’ button on his phone and tried to keep his tone neutral. “One moment, Mizuno-sensei.” He pressed another button and there was a low buzz. He could hear his door unlock and then creak open. 

“Pardon the intrusion.” Her voice came from his entryway and he turned on the wheelchair and used the little joystick to move it in reverse in order to back away from the dining table, which he was using as his desk. 

“I’m here.” He looked over his shoulder and saw her step into his living area. She glanced around and he turned the joystick to the right, frowning. “Well, well-ah!” His braced leg hit the leg of the table. A shock of pain shot up his body and he screamed.

“Isono-san!” He grit his teeth and reached for his leg with his good arm, not noticing her place her bags on the floor as she rushed to him. 

He wanted to hunch over, but his torso was bruised and it only made another pain known. His face reddened, partly due to the pain, but mostly the humiliation. It had been almost two weeks since he was discharged and he couldn’t even use his damn chair. 

Mizuno-sensei was behind him and pulled him away from the dining table, making sure to clear the table’s legs before walking around and kneeling on his right. 

“Don’t move. Take a deep breath...,” she instructed as she moved her hands over his brace. “Good, nothing’s shifted.” 

Zen continued to let out a hiss. “It still hurts....” 

“I know,” she said, calm. “Let me put away your food and then I’ll check your leg. If the swelling has gone down more, we can tighten the brace a bit. Where is your kitchen?”

She stood up and he watched her walk back to her things. She shrugged off her coat and hung it over the back of the sofa. She picked up a large paper bag with a big red rose on one side and Zen narrowed his eyes, fixed on it. It was like the large paper bags Red Rose Catering boxes came in.

“Sensei,” he said as he watched her head towards his kitchen. “Did you order my food from Red Rose Catering?” 

“Yes, and it seemed Sanjouin-san did, as well. I was told you received both my and his orders.” Mizuno-sensei opened his fridge and knelt down, going through the contents of the bag. “Did you not notice that you received two sets for each order?”

Zen furrowed his brows. He thought it was more than normal, but didn’t know what the usual single serving size was to begin with. “I thought only Naozumi put in an order and it was just a large serving.” 

He lifted his head. Her long, blue skirt touched the floor as she placed the containers inside. Her black mock neck had puffy sleeves and a delicate silver chain hung over it. It was a bit more stylish than normal and he admitted to himself that he liked it. 

The fridge closed and she folded the paper bag. “The owner of Red Rose Catering is a friend of mine and she called because she had an identical order to this address. It seems that Sanjouin-san also put in an order for you, which is the reason you received double the order.” 

His eyes were wide as he drew his head back. “Then you didn’t forget.”

She raised a brow behind her large glasses. “We made an arrangement, Isono-san. I would not forget the well being of my patient, especially when he’s a friend of a friend.”

For a moment, Zen felt guilty for having believed otherwise. Then he frowned. “The deal was that you’d arrange food until my shoulder got better. I was told it would take six weeks until the brace was removed.” 

“And you are very close to the halfway mark, Isono-san.” She glided across the room to a large, leather satchel and unzipped it. She took out a notebook, pen, and stethoscope, slinging the latter around her neck. 

“I thought you were joking.” Although, he was joking when he kept bringing it up. “I thought it was just going to be once.”

“It is one order for six weeks. Now, please stay still.” She moved closer to him and bent down, bringing the stethoscope to his chest. He could smell the faint scent of her shampoo mixing with a light, airy fragrance. Huh...he didn’t take her to be the type to wear perfume. He liked the scent.

She wrote something in her notebook and then moved to check his leg. She unstrapped the brace to check the coloration and gently prodded around the injury to note the swelling. 

“How is it?” 

“It’s healing well. If you keep this up, we can remove the brace in three weeks.” She was stating a fact, but he couldn’t help but take it as praise.

“I would hope so!” he said, smirking as he looked proud. “With how I’ve been confined to stay off of it the entire time.” 

“Now, your arm and shoulder.” 

He was confident it was healing well, too, and when her words validated his thoughts, he wanted to call Kouichi and brag. Zen answered any questions she had on how he was feeling, if he had any reactions to the medications, how his daily activities were, and the like. Mizuno-sensei was attentive, writing more into her notebook.

Zen knit his brows together. Why was she checking him? Didn’t she just come to sort out the food issue? He frowned once more. “Is this a home visit?” 

She didn’t look up from her notebook. “Yes. Considering your circumstance, Mamoru-san and Takaishi-san requested that I do your check ups, if possible, during a home visit.” 

He was disappointed. He didn’t know why, but he was. He lowered his eyes, the pride he felt earlier fading. “I see.” 

She snapped her notebook closed and went to return her things to her bag. “You’re healing very well, Isono-san. I think now is a good time to start looking into physical therapy options. If you’d like, I can look into some clinics near your home.” 

“That sounds fine,” he said in a low voice. “The closer the better...”

“I’ve also clarified the order with Red Rose Catering. I’ve agreed to split the last orders with Sanjouin-san. His order contract ended a few days ago, so I’ll be covering the remaining time.” 

Zen lifted his head. That was more than what a doctor would do, even one who was close friends with his brother’s fiancee. He tried to read her calm, poised demeanour. Surely, she had an ulterior motive for being so generous and going out of her way for him. As he met her eyes, he took a deep breath. 

“You don’t have to pay for my food.” 

She tilted her head. “Do you not like the catering? I can ask for something else-”

“No, no, the food is amazing,” Zen said. Naozumi had assured him it was good and if Naozumi with his gourmet taste buds could sing praises, then the food must be good. And it was. He just found her level of attentiveness suspicious. “It’s just strange that you hardly know me and you’d go this far.” He saw her open her mouth and cut her off before she could defend herself. “Even if you’re my doctor. Just doing home visits is enough. I’d already consider that too much and am basing it on your friendship with Tsukino-san. Do you want me to pay for the food? We never did agree on who’d actually pay-”

“I have my reasons.” 

Zen snapped his mouth closed. He  _ knew it _ . He narrowed his eyes and bore them into her. “And what are they?” 

She lifted her chin up, just a bit. Determination was on her face. “Isono-san, I want you to make Usagi’s wedding dress.” 

He blinked. That was why she was going so far? To request a dress that he already decided to make? A snort left his lips before he began laughing. His eyes crinkled up and he lifted his left hand to try to cover his mouth. How much did she love her friend?

“Is that...is that it?” Zen almost choked on his laughter. 

Mizuno-sensei looked taken aback. “Is that such a shocking request? You were quite against it at your store.”

He chuckled, still trying to muffle his laughter. “That was before I knew it was for Tsukino-san. If you’d just mentioned Mamoru sent you and it was for his fiancee, I would’ve taken it.” 

She didn’t look convinced. “Really?”

“Really. Honestly, Mizuno-sensei...I thought you had some ulterior motive. Like a real one,” he said, grinning. “I already decided to work on Tsukino-san’s dress. I just haven’t said anything yet because I don’t want Mamoru to freak out and tell me not to worry about it since I’m in a brace right now. I have tons of wedding dress designs for her to look through and once my shoulder is better, I can get started with some help from my assistants. Mamo-kun’s bride is a top priority, you know.”

Her face filled to relief and Zen wondered if she really worried that he’d reject her second time. She closed her eyes and bowed. “Thank you so much, Isono-san. I will wait until you tell Mamoru-san.” 

She remained bowing and Zen lifted his hand to dismiss the trouble as nothing. “Their wedding isn’t until next year. I have plenty of time and can pace myself.” She didn’t move from her position and Zen shifted. “You can stop bowing now, sensei.” 

He heard an unexpected sniffle. She lifted her head and he watched her wipe at her eyes. Why was she crying? “I’m very thankful, Isono-san. She’s heard so much about your work and spoke about how it would be wonderful to wear something made by her fiance’s brother, but didn’t want to trouble you. Usagi has done so much for me, I wanted to help her with the wedding, but considering my job, I can’t do much. I at least wanted to help pay for her dream dress.” 

Zen nearly dropped his jaw. What did Usagi-san do to have Mizuno-sensei willing to pay several hundred thousand yen for a wedding dress? Wait, that wasn’t what mattered right now. 

He shook his head. “Sensei, I will pay for the dress. That is my contribution to the wedding.”

She looked horrified. “You are already doing the design and sewing it....” She frowned and stiffened. “I won’t accept that. That’s too much. And you’re injured.” 

Zen wanted to smile. All right, just this once, he’d compromise. “Then, how about the labor to make it is my gift. You can pay for the materials.” He could almost see her doing the cost calculations in her head and then hesitating. He felt his lips tugging into that smile, enjoying the moment of uncertainty in the collected doctor’s face. “Not good enough? Then, why don’t I sweeten the deal?” 

“No, that’s not-”

He leaned forward, a playful smile on his face. “Why don’t I make  _ your _ dress for the wedding, too?” 

* * *

He thought that at a law office that dealt with high end and famous clients, no one would stare at him or even just give him a second look, yet Junya could feel several pairs of eyes as he sat in the elegant waiting room of the Takamura Law Office. He was dressed inconspicuously with a pair of thick glasses and an off-brand hat to help obscure his face.

In his opinion, he didn’t look like how he appeared on game shows, but perhaps he dressed too closely to his characters on dramas? They were all modern pieces....

“Jade-san?” He looked up from his phone as he heard his stage name. When he checked in, he didn’t have a chance to introduce himself properly and the receptionist eagerly greeted him as ‘Jade-san’. It seems that was what the official appointment was under.

“Yes?” One of the two receptionists was standing by the hall that led to the individual offices. 

“Midorikawa-sensei will see you now.” He gave her a small nod of his head as he stood up. He followed her down the hall and was led into an office. 

He expected to find a man well past-middle age in a suit and tie, surrounded by a library of law books behind a rich mahogany desk. Instead, he found a modern office with a minimalist seating area. A glass topped desk was in the far end of the room holding up a stack of folders and a laptop. 

Seated behind the desk was a woman who he guessed to be mid to late 30’s, maybe early 40’s, in a dark purple pants suit with a white blouse. Long, wavy reddish-brown hair was pulled into a neat French bun and she looked away from the person she was talking to. The young woman beside Midorikawa was dressed in sleek, fitted high waisted black pants and a dark red, sleeveless blouse. She was the one who drew his attention first. 

Her dark hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, but Junya recognized her immediately. Before he could greet either of them, the receptionist spoke.

“Midorikawa-sensei, Hino-sensei; Jade-san is here.” She bowed as she backed out of the door. 

“Jade-san.” The older woman rose from her seat. She was quite tall and had an intimidating air about her. She rounded her desk and gave him a small bow. “I am Midorikawa Beni. This my kohai; I believe you’ve met: Hino Rei.” 

As if it was her cue, Rei lowered her head to greet him. He responded in kind. “Thank you for taking time to meet me, sensei.” 

“Not at all. I’m a firm believer that my job is worthwhile. Today is just a consultation, of course. Things of this matter should be thought out thoroughly and we wanted to go over your requests.”

He let out a low breath. To be honest, he wasn’t sure where to start, but this meeting showed promise. “I appreciate the help.”

Midorikawa gave him a nod and motioned one hand to the modern gray sofas that faced each other. A narrow, glass coffee table was between them. “Please have a seat.”

He nodded and as he moved over, Rei gathered a notebook from the desk. “Midorikawa-san, I should take my leave.” 

“Wait a moment,” the older woman said. She looked at Junya. “Hino-san is our most promising young lawyer here. We’re doing our best to train her in all matters and she will be assisting me on your case. Is this acceptable?”

There wasn’t anything he wanted to hide. He looked over at Rei, who seemed hesitant to remain. “I don’t mind. Does she need to stay for the consultation?” 

“It would be a good experience for her, but we will respect your requests.”

His eyes stayed on Rei’s dark ones, remembering the hint of concern in her otherwise professional voice. He didn’t tell her the whole story that night and part of him felt he should. 

“Hino-san is welcomed to stay.” He moved his eyes away from hers, taking note that she seemed a bit suspicious. 

“Wonderful. Hino-san, while I’m asking questions, please prepare the informative guides for him.” 

“Yes.” Rei handed the notebook and pen to Midorikawa and headed to a file cabinet. Junya tried not to follow her with his eyes and focus on the woman across from him. He didn’t come to the office for Rei and he didn’t want to upset her by making it appear that he did. 

“Let’s begin first. What do you hope to outline for your will?” She sat across from him and flipped open a small notebook, ready to take notes. 

Junya took a deep breath. “I would like all my money and assets to be split between four people who are not blood related to me.” 

“I see.... We will need all their contact information.”

“Of course.”

“Do you have any family that we should take into consideration?”

His face must’ve darkened as Midorikawa raised a brow. “My mother has passed. I’m not married nor do I have any children. However, I do have an estranged father. He has a separate family that I do not associate with; I have a younger half-brother and half-sister, but I hardly know them.”

Midorikawa wrote this all down. “From the sound of it you want to make sure that they do not receive any of your money or assets should you die.”

Junya nodded. “My father’s business is bankrupt and our estrangement is...hostile. I would prefer anything I leave behind to go to those who I am close to.” 

“Of course, of course,” Midorikawa nodded. “We will make sure that those four are made clear as your heirs. However, you are still quite young. Should there be any changes, you can always update your will to reflect them.”

“I understand.” Junya pursed his lips. “Midorikawa-sensei, how long would it take to finalize this?”

She raised another brow. She lowered her pen and studied him. “Is there a rush, Jade-san?” 

“I have a few months.”

She frowned. “A few months?” 

“It’s not that I’m ill,” Junya said. “Though estranged, my father sought me out a few weeks ago. His kidneys are failing and he needs a donor. Neither of his two other children match well. It is apparently an age issue; he had them quite later in life.”

“Have you...already gotten tests done?” 

“Yes.”

“And the result?”

Junya let out a low breath and lowered his eyes. “I’m a suitable match.” He took a deep breath and lifted his head. “I’m well aware that there is still a chance this could be a dangerous operation and I could lose my life. As such, I want to take all the precautions I have.” 

She gave him an understanding nod. Beside her, Rei took a seat and placed a small portfolio of papers on the coffee table. “Have you scheduled a surgery date?” she asked.

He looked over at her. She maintained her perfect posture, even seated, and kept a serious look on her face, but he could see the flicker of concern still in her eyes. He frowned. 

“No, not yet. In fact, I haven’t contacted my father regarding the results. I’m sure that once I tell him, he’ll want to schedule the transplant immediately.” He couldn’t help but smile bitterly. He knew his father that well. “Before he does, I want to get this matter settled.” 

Midorikawa looked at Rei and a silent conversation seemed to happen between the two women. Rei nodded, as if accepting an order, and her elder lawyer looked back at Junya. 

“Typically, we take our time with these sorts of wills, especially for our younger clients. There are often many things to look into and we are thorough with our work. As a senior partner, I don’t have the luxury to collect all the information in such a short amount of time.” Junya held his breath. Was she going to turn him away? “While I will review and finalize the will, I will leave the bulk of the preparation to Hino-san.” 

He jerked his head up and then turned it towards the younger woman. Her expression remained serious and aloof, as if unaffected by the duty given to her. “Hino-san?” 

“She’s young, but she’s brilliant. She’s taken on several complex cases for me and Takamura-sensei already. We can personally vouch for her abilities. If you want this done right and in a short time frame, Hino-san will be able to make it happen. Is this acceptable?” Midorikawa asked, her eyes fixed on him as if watching for any sign of weakness.

Junya’s eyes were still on Rei’s, expecting her to reject it. After all, she was an elite who had no interest in a celeb like him. Unless of course, her professionalism forced her to. He clenched and unclenched his jaw. “Is it acceptable to Hino-san?” 

For the first time, he saw her looked surprised. Her eyes widened and her red lips parted for a small ‘o’. Even Midorikawa looked surprised to hear this. She looked from him to her kohai. The corner of her dark lips curled upwards. 

“Hino-san?” she asked, prompting an answer.

As if all her sense flooded back to her, Rei’s expression hardened once more. “Of course it is acceptable.” Her voice reeked of professionalism and he almost wanted to laugh. He shouldn’t have doubted her. Even he could tell she did her job seriously. 

“Excellent. Then, let’s get what information we need gathered.” 

The consultation took up the whole hour and in the end, he had managed to outline what he wanted and had a list of information he needed, including information on his friends. He made another appointment in a week. Just as Rei was about to escort him one, Midorikawa stopped them.

“Hino-san,” she said. “Take Jade-san to Ville de Lyon.” 

Ah, a business meal. Junya knew them all too well. The purpose was to strengthen the relationship between client and service provider and he’d been to many with various industry professionals. 

“Jade-san, shall we schedule dinner?” She turned to him and he frowned. He wanted to go out with her, yes, but not like this. Not in such a stifling, formal way. 

“I’m afraid my schedule is quite packed this coming week.” His voice was sharper than he wanted and he noticed her eyes just narrow in the slightest. “I was only able to clear tonight for this appointment.”

“Then that means tonight is free,” Midorikawa said. He snapped his head towards the smirking woman. She looked past him, at Rei. “I’ve already made reservations. Please enjoy your meal.”

She didn’t wait for confirmation or refusal as she marched back to her office. Junya almost let his draw drop. He looked back at Rei, noticing her lips in a tight line. As he thought: she didn’t want to go on a business meal with him. 

“Jade-san, please wait here. I will gather my coat and bag.” She gave him a small bow, but before she could turn away, he stopped her.

“Hino-san, you don’t need to go if you don’t want to.” 

In an instant, her dark eyes were fixed on him and she was frowning. “Jade-san, this is part of my job. Client relations are important. I understand that you may not want to go with me-”

“I do want to go with you, just not like this.” He blurted it out and she cocked her head to the side and gave him a confused look. 

“Pardon?” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘not like this’?” Her voice lowered and he swallowed. There was that intimidating aura again. 

He felt his heart speed up. Intimidating, but he was still drawn to it. “I...don’t want you to have to be taken away from your...work.” That was the best excuse he could come up with and he congratulated himself.

She looked at him as if he were crazy. “Jade-san, this is part of my work,” she said in a dull voice. Nevermind. It was a terrible excuse. She turned around and began walking away. “Please give me five minutes.” 

He was willing to wait longer, but she emerged from the hall with a coat on and a small purse in less than five. 

“Should we call a taxi?” he asked as they rode down the elevator of the building the office was in. 

“That’s not necessary.” The doors opened and Junya looked out. They were in the lower level parking garage. Rei strode forward, lifting her hand. She pressed a small key fob and a bright red BMW coupe’s lights flashed. “I can drive.” 

It wasn’t the car that stunned him. In fact, the red coupe seemed to fit her perfectly. It wasn’t her driving or the fact that before she turned the radio off, it was clear that she was listening to pop music, or even the lingering scent of incense and an empty bottle of green tea. It was that she did everything with a casual indifference that made her life seem to have just all fallen into place. As if she didn’t need anyone or anything.

When they reached the restaurant, she backed into a space and they got out. They hadn’t said a word to each other since they left the garage. He wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what to ask. Complimenting her car or driving felt too forced. 

“Do you recommend anything here?” he asked as they walked to the entrance. That was a good starter.

“Everything they serve here is excellent. You can’t make a wrong decision.” She didn’t look back and continued walking. As they reached the door, it flew open and Rei managed to avoid it with grace. She frowned and Junya stopped behind her, his arms out to catch her in case she fell backwards.

“Junya?” If he wasn’t sure how to feel with his situation before, he was sure now. His brows instantly creased and a scowl reached his face as he caught sight of his father exiting the restaurant. 

“Junya-kun!” His glare hardened at the woman next to his father, who looked both earnest to see him and incredibly nervous. He never liked his father’s new wife. She was a good ten or more years younger than his father, but tried to look even younger than that with how she dressed and did her makeup. “What are you doing here?” she asked with an awkward laugh.

He kept his lips tight. They were the last people he wanted to deal with. He looked past them, blatantly ignoring them as he reached for the door. “Good evening,” he greeted the host just in the foyer. “We have a reservation.” 

His voice was icy and the host looked a bit taken aback. He looked down at his tablet. “Under what name?” 

Before he could answer, his father’s voice filled his ears once more. “Oh, so you’re too good to answer your father now. Look at him, Shina-chan...he pretends he doesn’t know us.” His voice was mocking and Junya told himself to endure and not make a fool of himself. “You think you’re so much better than me, huh? Because of your money! You walk into this fancy restaurant that doesn’t even take walk-ins!”

“Sir, we are booked for the evening and have no room.” The host looked apologetic and bowed. “This is our fault. I am very sorry for the inconvenience. We can make a reservation for you Sunday night-”

“Junya-kun, it’s my and your father’s anniversary. I know you and your girlfriend are on a date, yes?” Shina said looking hopefully from him to Rei, who was still standing just outside the door. Junya couldn’t read her expression. “But with your father ill, we don’t know how many anniversaries we have left, you know.” Shina pouted and Junya felt sick. Was she really going to ask what he thought she was? “Why don’t you give your reservation to your sick Papa? You can come some other time.” 

“She’s right!” His father stood up straight and put his arm around his wife, as if to shield her. “Will you not even do that since you refuse to even be tested for a kidney match?” He glowered at Junya and Junya ground his teeth together. 

These two were a pair. They had the gall to make a scene in front of such a classy restaurant and try to guilt him into giving them his reservation? Them? The two people he detested most in the world? He turned around to refute them, only for another voice to stop him.

“Rei-san?” Junya turned towards the interior of the restaurant and saw a tall, brown-haired man in a crisp navy suit with glasses stopped past the foyer. Just behind him was a pretty woman in a cream colored dress. She glanced towards the brown-haired man, as if asking why he stopped. 

“Kaidou-san.” Junya turned back to Rei and saw her bowing. “Good evening.” 

Whoever Kaidou-san was, he seemed to look around and frowned. “Is something going on?” 

“No, Kaidou-san. I was just arriving for dinner and this older couple stopped us and started yelling at my companion. I think they must be mistaken.” Her voice was calm and steady, but Junya heard a slight pitch in her voice and noticed her eyes didn’t meet the other man’s when she was speaking to him. 

“Is that so....” Kaidou frowned more so. “If there is a disturbance, should we call the police?” 

“What?” Junya’s father gaped. He almost stumbled back. “Call the police? For what? Who do you think you are-”

“Shigata-san, call the police,” Kaidou said, leaning towards the host. The host, seemingly lost with the sudden confrontation, nodded and reached for the phone.

“You can’t!” Junya’s father took a step forward and Kaidou moved to block his way. 

“This sort of establishment doesn’t take well to such forceful people. Harassing other customers and causing a scene is disturbing the patrons.”

“Who are you?” Junya’s father demanded, puffing out his chest. Junya rolled his eyes. The old man was clearly out of his league compared to taller and younger Kaidou.

“I’m the secretary of Hino Takashi,” Kaidou said with a firm look on his face. 

The name struck him. It seemed to have struck his father and Shina, as well as he watched the color drain from their faces. He knew the name as that of a prominent and influential politician. Suddenly, he made the connection to Rei and turned to look at her. She was looking away and her small hands were clenched. His eyes narrowed. She didn’t want to be here. Neither did he. 

“Ah! Aren’t you Jade-san?” the woman with Kaidou gasped, her cheeks reddening as she recognized him. Junya didn’t care. Right now, all he could see was Rei’s discomfort.

Junya shoved past his father, splitting him and Shina apart as he made his way to Rei. He didn’t look back at the people in the restaurant as he took Rei’s hand and began to lead her away. 

“Let’s go,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “I know a good yakitori place nearby.” 

Part of him expected her to yank her hand from his. Another part of him waited for her to tell him to stop or ask what he was doing. That’s what the Hino Rei he’d met at the shooting location would’ve done. He frowned as he stormed forward with her keeping pace just a half step behind him. 

It was bad enough with his parents. He could deal with them. But the moment that strange man appeared, the air around them changed and he knew he needed to take her out of there. Her face may have remained the same, but he knew she was upset. 

She wouldn’t have been squeezing his hand as tight as she was now if she wasn’t. 

* * *

“And another thing!” If Zen was able to pace in front of a sulking Mamoru while he scolded him, he would. Instead, he had to make due with boring holes in the younger man from his chair. “What if my place was a mess? How would that have looked, huh? I have a reputation to maintain!” 

“Zen.” Naozumi walked out from Zen’s kitchen holding a small tray of chips, dried fish jerky, and three cans of chilled beer. “You’ve been scolding him since we arrived. He gets it.” 

“He gave my address to a stranger!” 

“She’s not a stranger, she’s your doctor and she was making a home visit,” Mamoru said, leaning forward and looking serious. “It would be too difficult for you to get checked at the hospital.”

“Was it that bad, Zen?” Naozumi asked. He put the tray on the coffee table between and took a seat next to Mamoru on the sofa. “You said she said you are healing fine and may get your braces off in three or four weeks.” 

Zen lifted his good hand to his head. “You could’ve at least told me that she was coming.” 

Mamoru looked surprised. “Ami-san didn’t call ahead of time? She’s usually so careful about that.” 

Zen narrowed his eyes. Why did Mamoru know so much about her? Did he know a lot about all his fiancee’s friends? And why did that bother him? 

“She called when she was practically at my doorstep.” That reminded him of the food she brought with him. “Oh yeah, Naozumi, she told me about the catering thing.”

Naozumi sat up straight, his face going pale. “Oh no...I forgot to extend it.”

Zen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Sensei already extended it until my braces are removed. That was our deal.” 

“Deal?” Mamoru asked.

“What deal?” Naozumi frowned.

Zen looked away, trying to suppress his embarrassment. It all started because he was complaining and while it was the frustration at the time, he would admit it wasn’t his best moment.

“I kept complaining at the hospital and we made an agreement that as long as I’d rest and not bother the nurses too much, she'd arrange for food while I was recuperating at home.” He said the last sentence quickly and almost under his breath, but his friend still heard him.

Naozumi gasped, disapproving. “Zen!”

“Is that why you were yelling about food when you were discharged?” Mamoru scratched his head. 

“I didn’t think she was serious! I thought it was just a joke!” He mostly did. How was he supposed to know she was serious about the matter and would come see him and admit to trying to curry his favor with the food...and then face him with that adorable blushing expression when she grew flustered at the suggestion that he - the ultra talented celebrity dressmaker - would make her a dress, too?

Naozumi and Mamoru didn’t need to know about that part. That was for Zen to enjoy.

Before Naozumi could scold him, the doorbell rang and his phone began to vibrate. Naozumi gave him a stern look before pushing himself up. 

“Who is it?” Mamoru asked as Zen picked up his phone. 

Zen frowned. “Kou-chan...he’s swaying....” They heard the door unlock and then Naozumi’s surprised voice.

“Kouichi! What’s wrong with you?” Zen strained his neck to get a better view of his entryway and the blabbering drunkard Naozumi was carrying in without permission.

Mamoru shot up from his seat to help collect their eldest brother. They dragged the tall, white-haired man into the apartment and dropped him on the sofa where they’d been sitting. Kouichi was still wearing his suit from work and his trench coat looked oddly dirty.

Zen wrinkled his nose. Kouichi reeked of alcohol. “Is he dead?” 

“Shut up....” Kouichi’s muffled voice came from the sofa cushion he had his face planted on. 

“I’ll get him some water.” Naozumi was already heading to the kitchen. 

“Did you go drinking for work?” Mamoru asked, standing beside Zen’s chair. Kouichi turned his head towards them, looking flushed and sweaty. 

“The launch party for the campaign....” He drew his head back and made a face, as if he were pained by the thought.

His friends sighed. He had complained about it so much, everyone knew his problem dealing with the campaign. Or, more precisely, the woman spearheading it. 

“Kou-chan,” Zen said in an even, placating voice. “You did your best. The point is that the campaign pre-planning you are a part of is done, isn’t it? You don’t have to work with her again, do you?” 

Kouichi let out a pained groan, sounding like a zombie. “They’re in the talks to hire the firm again for the next product.” 

“Kouichi, drink some water.” Naozumi knelt down beside their friend’s head and placed the cup on the coffee table. Like a toddler getting up from a tantrum, Kouichi pushed himself from the sofa and sat up. He reached for the glass and chugged the cool contents down before nearly slamming it on the table.

“I can’t face her again.” His voice was harsh and the other three exchanged looks. 

“Kou, you were able to work with her this time and you even said she valued your criticism,” Mamoru said, giving him a hopeful smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to work with her again.” 

Kouichi shook his head, his white hair falling over his face. “I can’t....”

“Why not?” Naozumi asked, his brows furrowed. Kouichi kept his head downcast, his face shielded from view by his hair. They barely heard his voice answer.

“I kissed her.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...which senshixshitennou pairing will hook up first? Will it be the ‘oh shit’ business rivals with the clear unresolved sexual tension? The calm doctor and her dramatic patient she’s personally healing? The chef and baker painfully overdosing on pining? Or Jadeite’s on-going K-drama, now featuring a mysterious man from Rei’s past? Who knows! I certainly don’t! 
> 
> Until next time, thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

In the past, when a campaign was successfully launched and the feedback was as good as it was, he’d be the one laughing with a drunken, flushed face, refusing to let go of his beer as he celebrated with his co-workers. He’d throw compliments at everyone; praising the teams involved or their hard work before dragging whoever he could with them to do drunken karaoke before having to take a taxi home as he was on the verge of passing out.

And it would’ve been the same this time, had the campaign not been driven so successfully by the Lunar Agency and all his criticisms were for naught. 

“Aino-san! Let me buy you another drink!” The scowl on his face was chalked up to the success of the Lunar Agency, as everyone there knew that he had been very critical of them. However, that wasn’t why Kouichi was displeased. 

He watched their intern side up next to Minako and wave for her to have another drink. He’d been doing that the whole night and while there wasn’t anything wrong with serving and buying a co-worker a drink, it was more than suspicious that the intern was only targeting her. 

Kouichi silently willed her to tell him to stop or to move away. Perhaps go sit with the other women and enter a new conversation. One where his company’s intern wasn’t rubbing his arm against her. Kouichi grit his teeth and nearly crushed the beer can in his hand. Minako had a neutral smile on, betraying nothing, and thanked the intern. Her face was already red. They’d been at the restaurant for two hours.

It was long enough for anyone to get drunk, no matter how sober they looked. He brought his beer to his lips, telling himself it wasn’t any of his business if she accepted the intern’s advances. After all, she wasn’t technically one of his subordinates. In the past, he’d casually get in the way of such aggression, sometimes even subtly guide someone to where they’d be safer. 

“Oh...haha...I couldn’t possibly. I’ve had so much already.” Minako’s melodic voice protested.

“Nonsense! You don’t look drunk at all!” 

Then Kouichi saw it. That stray hand landing on her lap. Her shoulders tensed, her hands clenched. 

“Aino-san, I have a bone to pick with you!” He shot up from his seat and half the table glanced over at him. Most people returned to their conversation. What a surprise: Takaishi-san had a problem with Aino-san. 

She raised a brow and stood up, as if ready to take on the challenge. “Sure, Takaishi-san. Shall we go outside?” She had a defiant look and rounded the table, following him outside their private room. The door closed behind them and they made it five steps before he turned and grabbed her wrist. 

“You’re drunk,” he said, pulling her forward. 

She glared at him, but followed. “I’m not drunk! I’m fine!”

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have let that little sleazeball get so close!” The advertising rep he knew could easily tear a man to bits with her words. She’d done so to him so many times. What other explanation could she have to let the intern cross a line?

“I told you - I’m fine! I can handle myself!” Her face was flushed red and he could almost feel the heat radiating from her body as she stumbled after him out into the alley. The chill autumn air surrounded them. She quickly straightened up and shot him another glare as she pulled her wrist from him. “What is wrong with you?” 

  
Kouichi couldn’t stop glaring back at the dark hall as the metal door to the building closed. The rage that filled him earlier when he watched the intern rub up against the brilliant and beautiful marketing agent wasn’t tempered even in the cool air of the night. 

“Hey!” The blonde woman moved to stand in front of him and lifted her hands to clap in his face in order to get his attention. “I’m talking to you!”

“How could you let him do that to you?” Kouichi scowled as her actions succeeded and drew his eyes back to her. 

Her face seemed to heat a bit more and her eyes darted to the side. “He wasn’t going to get far.”

His scowl deepened. “Then you knew what he was doing.” It was more a demand for confirmation than a question.

She turned back to him with a dark expression. “Of course I know! I’m not a child!” She threw her arms in the air as she took a step closer. “You think I don’t know about men like him? Who try to take advantage of the situation and get female associates drunk? You think he’s the first I’ve come across?” She let out a bitter laugh as she crossed her arms. “You think he’s the first I’ve come across  _ this year _ ?” 

Kouichi couldn’t help the horrified look on his face. He’d heard of such things, but he didn’t think they were as prevalent as she made it sound. For a moment, his mind went blank. He wasn’t sure how to reply to her. He thought that if he pulled her away from the situation, he was doing a heroic deed; rescuing the would-be damsel from danger. 

But it seemed like the damsel was fully aware and knew how to handle it. Still, that didn’t mean she liked it. From the look on her face, it was clear she hated it and was disgusted, but frustratingly resigned to such a thing happening. He wasn’t prepared for this and didn’t know if he should be angry with her, pity her, or offer sympathy. 

His shoulders sunk and a helpless look appeared on his face. 

“How can you stand it?” She lifted her eyes to meet his and he thought her gaze softened just a bit. “How can you deal with...with  _ that _ ?” He couldn’t even bring himself to say harassment. The word wasn’t strong enough.

Her eyes lowered once more and her arms uncrossed, falling weakly to her sides. “I leave.” She bit her lower lip for a moment, as if trying to find the words to explain. “We try to watch what we drink. We have a system of checks; that is, amongst us female co-workers. We’ll try to get between any aggressors as subtly as we can or make an excuse to escape the situation. If trying to stay sober and putting distance between us doesn’t work, we try to get out of there. But you know how it is.” She met his eyes and he could see the weariness in them. 

He nodded. Even he, at a senior level, couldn’t always leave a dinner or party or other event when he wanted. Custom dictated that he’d have to stay and keep seniors and customers company. If he left too early, it would be seen as disrespectful. They could even lose a client over it. 

It had always been an annoying part of office work culture, but as of yet, he’d never had to worry about getting drunk and having someone take advantage of him. 

“I’m sorry.” Kouichi looked down. He lifted a hand and ran it through his loose, white hair. “I just saw that idiot slide up next to you while forcing you to drink and I dragged you out.” He let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “To be dragged out by a man like me all of a sudden...you must’ve been terrified.” 

It surprised him when she shook her head. “I was angry, but not scared.” She offered him a wry smile. “You’re a stubborn, needlessly critical old man.” He frowned at her words and almost began to regret empathizing with her. She muffled a giggle at his expression and her smile widened a little more. “But, Takaishi-san...you wouldn’t do anything to hurt me.” 

He cocked his head to the side. “Why do you think that?” Of course, he would never do such a thing, but they were always arguing, after all. Since when did she have such confidence in him?

Her big blue eyes seemed to search his and a satisfied smile tugged at her soft, ruby lips. “I just know.” 

His chest tightened and he swallowed hard. He didn’t notice that he took a step back to put distance between them. “Aino-san.” He tried to look anywhere but at the woman in front of him, who almost seemed to smirk when he stepped back. “Regardless, I shouldn’t have been so brash. It wasn’t my intention to upset you in any way. I only wanted-”

“To save me?” 

He made a disappointed face. When she said it like that, it made him feel like he just wanted to play the hero. “I simply couldn’t stand to see someone take advantage of a colleague. That intern won’t be returning to work, I can promise you that.” 

Minako bit her lower lip and giggled a bit. “Yeah...I know.” She lifted her head and clasped her hands behind her back as she took a casual step forward. “I knew we’d be drinking again tonight. More than when the preparations were complete since we got the account. I was readying myself for it. And you know what your lady co-workers told me when we met up outside?” 

Kouichi wasn’t sure he wanted to. “No....”

She smiled. “They said not to worry; Chief Takaishi always makes sure no one takes advantage of anyone. Not that new accounting girl. Not the middle-aged exec. Not the pretty boy deputy assistant who kept getting hit on. They said as long as you were there, everyone felt comfortable and safe.” 

It wasn’t as if he was trying to hide it or pretend to be a secret hero, but he had long grown used to taking care of others. It was a byproduct of watching over his brothers. He was simply naturally inclined to take care of everyone, meaning that they all made it home safely and without incident. 

He didn’t think it was all that noticeable and now that it was revealed that his entire team not only knew, but that their  _ marketing agents _ knew, he found himself embarrassed. His tanned face began to grow heated and he looked away. 

“It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? I take care of my own.” 

“Oh....” Her voice was playful and he didn’t notice she was moving closer. “So, you think of me as one of your own?” 

He stiffened and snapped his head back to look at her. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw her face looking up at him, with less than a hand’s width between their suited bodies. 

“No...it’s just....” He couldn’t stop looking at her. Even in the dim light coming in from the street light several meters away, she was pretty with her flushed cheeks and her sparkling eyes and the Doir perfume he didn’t know why he recognized. He rushed his words. “I’m just being courteous. Aino-san, aren’t you too close?”   
  


“Am I?” She tilted her head to the side and he grit his teeth. Just a slight movement of her head shouldn’t have elicited such an endearing feeling. What magic was she using? “Answer my question, Takaishi-san...what do you think of me?” 

He watched her little pink tongue dart out and lick her lips. He swallowed hard once more. “I...I think....”   
  


“Yeah?”

“I think you’re drunk.” 

He saw the brief look of surprise in her eyes as she jerked her head back. Before his words seemed to register completely, the door to the building opened and two women peeked out.

“Aino-san? Takaishi-san?” 

Kouichi didn’t even know how he and Minako managed to suddenly be at opposite sides of the alley when the women called out. When they heard the door click open, the tiny distance between them jumped and now she was standing by the door and he was facing a dumpster. He narrowed his eyes. Why was he facing a dumpster? 

“Nishikawa-san, Haseda-san!” Minako’s voice was light and airy, as if she wasn’t looking deep into his eyes a second ago. “Sorry, did we worry you? We came out for a breather, but ended up arguing about the campaign again.” 

It was the most likely scenario, but Kouichi still didn’t appreciate the implication that he still couldn’t get over the changes when the campaign was already in full swing and a success. He frowned, ignoring the judging looks from the other two women. 

“Oh, that’s what happened.” The older of the two lifted a hand to her chest and seemed to be relieved. “Takaishi-san pulled you away so suddenly...”

“ _ Ara _ ...I told you it’s nothing to worry about. I told you, Takaishi-san isn’t like that.” The younger woman was his co-worker and she dutifully came to his defense. 

He decided to step in before it got too much. Kouichi moved forward, standing up straight, and raising an inquiring brow. “Like what exactly, Haseda-san?” 

She grimaced and shrank back into the doorway. “Uh...nothing! You two should come back soon!  _ Kacho _ is asking for you.”

  
Before she could retreat, he stopped her. “Haseda-san,” he said. She perked up and looked ready to take note. “Arrange a meeting with HR tomorrow, as soon as possible, regarding Watanabe’s performance tonight.”

His subordinate nodded and assured him that she’d take care of it. The door closed, leaving him and Minako alone once more. 

“You’re really going to fire the intern?” she asked, glancing over at him.

Kouichi thought it was obvious. “We don’t need people like that in our company. He didn’t get anywhere tonight, but there will be other nights. Someone else may not be able to handle him like you. Another manager may not notice and stop him, either.” 

The woman furrowed her brows. “I’m not one of your employees.” 

He glanced over at her and raised a brow. “What does that have anything to do with it? He should know his disgusting actions have consequences. People like him who try to take advantage of others like that don’t deserve to be around people.” 

She seemed to relax as she looked at him, her mouth slightly agape. She let out a small laugh and shook her head, defeated. “I knew you were too good when I met you....” She seemed to be talking more to herself than him and Kouichi knit his brows together.

“What are you-?”

His words were cut off as he was pulled down by a small, pale hand grabbing the front of his shirt. His eyes widened as he looked down at the woman. 

“Let’s get one thing straight, Takaishi-san,” she said as she leaned upwards; alcohol still laced in her hot breath. “I’m not drunk.” 

* * *

“And then we made out in the alley until we heard people looking for us again.” Kouichi’s face was buried in his hands as the other three men in Zen’s living room looked at him with expressions varying from disbelief, to confusion, to annoyance. 

Mamoru and Naozumi didn’t know what to say and looked at each other, as if waiting for the other to start. Zen spoke up first.

“What are you, a middle schooler?” Zen nearly yelled. “You come stumbling in here - while I’m  _ injured _ \- just to  _ brag _ ?” 

Kouichi lifted his head and gave him a look of betrayal. “I’m not bragging!”

“Oh, then what’s all this you’re spouting about making out with a hot blonde in an alley?” Zen said, glaring at him.

“Okay, both of you, calm down.” Naozumi raised his hands and stood between the chair Zen was on and the sofa Kouichi was slumped against. He looked over at the eldest of them. “Why are you making a big deal about this, Kou? It’s not like you’ve never kissed a woman.”

“I’ve never kissed a co-worker! This isn’t professional!” Kouichi exclaimed. Sure, he had no qualms with using his good looks and charm to get preferential snack treatment from the ladies at work, but he’d never come on to any of them, let alone kissed them. He always maintained and prided himself on his professionalism. 

  
He was a respectable member of society, dammit. 

Zen ran his good hand down his face. “I can’t believe this....” 

“Kou-chan,” Mamoru said, as if careful with his words. “Could it be that this woman took advantage of you?” 

Kouichi looked at Mamoru with a warm, dotting expression. At least Mamoru cared. He opened his mouth to reply that it wasn’t the case; he’d just had a lapse of judgment, when Zen cut him off.

“How could she have taken advantage of him? This idiot probably got lost in the moment and pinned her to the wall and kissed her senseless. That’s why the two of them lost track of time.” 

Naozumi nodded in agreement and Kouichi shot them both glares. First of all, how dare they. Second, that was exactly what happened, but still, how dare they. 

“I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to let go, okay?” He could still feel her soft warmth against his body and the heat from her skin through their clothes. His mind fogged up at her rasping voice in his ear, mindlessly muttering his name as her legs rubbed against his and her quick hands felt him up underneath his jacket. 

If they hadn’t heard someone calling out for them from the street, he wouldn’t have gone to karaoke with his co-workers. He would’ve ended up making a mistake in a hotel room. 

Yet, even as he identified an affair with someone who was essentially a co-worker as a possible mistake, he couldn’t help but feel regretful that he _ wasn’t  _ currently having someone’s long legs wrapped around his waist. The thought of such a scenario made him groan back into his hands. 

“Kouichi, you’re both consenting adults,” Naozumi said, calm. “You’re worried about nothing.”

“We just signed a contract with her company,” Kouichi said, lifting his head to look at his friend. “I’m going to work with her more often from now on. How can I face her after...after this!” He waved his hands in front of him. 

Mamoru looked confused. “Is there a rule at your company about inter-office dating? Technically, she’s working for another company that you’re working with, so it should be fine.” 

“It’s not about that,” Kouichi said. “You’re young and you two.” He looked at Naozumi and Zen. “Don’t understand. Seeing someone you work with privately is dangerous. If something happens between you two, it will affect the working relationship. We can try to hide it, but people you work with always sniff it out. I don’t want to risk bringing personal issues into my work sphere where it could negatively impact not just my job, but other people’s jobs. If I’m going to see someone - and I’m not saying that she’s the type of woman I would see - they would definitely not be someone I work with.” 

* * *

Naozumi thought Kouichi was making a big deal about nothing. He’d continued to insist that his line of work couldn’t afford to be influenced by a relationship, especially with the woman he’d been vehemently at odds with during the recent campaign. However, to Naozumi, it didn’t make sense.

As dramatic and attentive as Kouichi was with them four, he was normally a calm and composed man who was clever and disciplined in his work. There were times when they didn’t recognize him when they saw Kouichi in his work element. Once, Naozumi was delivering some pastries to a party that Kouichi was attending and had to convince himself he wasn’t watching a doppelganger.

Dressed in a black tuxedo for the formal affair, the air around his eldest brother was that of an elite businessman who easily made his way around company circles; networking and solidifying deals. Kouichi spoke of business matters as if breathing and it was clear people around him had the utmost respect for the chief of sales. 

When Naozumi was just opening up _ A Taste of Heaven _ , Kouichi had guided him through a lot of the marketing process and the man not only had connections, but was more knowledgeable than they gave him credit for. Everything was done with thought, efficiency, and precision when he was in charge. 

But it wasn’t as if that ability would just go away the second he went further than making out in an alley with Aino-san. Surely, Kouichi could keep it professional. 

Naozumi took a deep breath and checked the time on his phone. It was almost time to drop off the pastries special ordered for that night’s event and he had to focus on his job rather than Kouichi’s needlessly complicated love life. Naozumi got out of the white van parked by the service entrance in the narrow side street of the towering hotel in Shinjuku. He’d catered pastries at other, nearby hotels, but this was his first time at this one in particular. It was the 75th birthday of an esteemed client’s mother and she was a fan of his work. 

He began to unload the large, flat white pastry boxes that had A Taste of Heaven embossed in gold on top onto a simple dolly. He was careful with his stacking so the contents wouldn’t be crushed. Once the first six boxes were loaded, he headed towards the back door to speak to a young woman in a black and white server’s uniform holding the door open. 

“I’m with  _ A Taste of Heaven _ for the Miyamori birthday,” he said. The young woman looked at a clipboard and checked for his name. “Sanjouin Naozumi.” 

The girl’s eyes lit up as she seemed to find the name and nodded. “One moment, Sanjouin-san. I will have someone escort you to the upstairs ballroom.”

He nodded and waited patiently at the door until another young woman appeared and bowed to him. He followed her to the service elevator, telling her that he needed to make a few trips to get the rest of the pastries. She assured him it wouldn’t be a problem and they could allocate one of the carts to assist him. 

They reached the second floor and went down a hallway towards the kitchen that served the main ballroom. Upon opening the door, the scent of delicious food filled his nostrils as a half dozen people scurried around from cooking station to cooking station preparing pots and pans of Western dishes. 

“Sanjouin-san, the table to set up the desserts is already set up in the ballroom.” 

“Great, thank you.” He gave the young woman a nod before carefully crossing the kitchen to get to the swinging door that led to the ballroom floor. He pushed it open with his bag and emerged in a gloriously red and gold decorated ballroom. Of course, having catered such high end parties before, he was no stranger to the extravagance.

Instead, he made it halfway to the dessert table, where two multi-tiered chocolate fountains were already set up, and stopped. Across from the dessert table was a station for finger food and looming over it, giving rapid and concise instruction was the woman who had stolen his heart.

“Makoto-san?” Her name left his mouth before he could stop them and, though he would’ve thought he was too far away for her to hear, she perked up and turned to see who called her name. Naozumi grimaced. Did he call out to her louder than he thought?

It no longer mattered. As soon as he realized what he said out loud, she caught sight of him and her focused face filled with a pleasured surprise. “Naozumi-san!” She looked over the skinny young man he assumed was her assistant and seemed to be telling him she’d be back before she made her way over. “Are you catering the Miyamori party, too?”

He looked over at the table he was going to and nodded. “Yes, I didn’t know you were catering the event.” 

“Miyamori-san’s business partner recommended us,” Makoto said, gleeful as she held her hands together. “What do you think of the venue?”

“The venue?” He glanced around. It was large and well decorated. The staff moving around seemed very attentive. He was sure it could easily be rearranged to create different set ups and from what he’d seen of the kitchen, it was well prepared to handle the volume of people that would fill up the space. “It’s very organized and looks like there are plenty of resources. Have you catered here before?”

Makoto nodded, excited. “Yes! That was why they gave us such a good deal for the wedding.” 

“The wedding?” He could feel his chest constrict as he snapped his head to look at her. Makoto looked elated as she smiled and looked around the numerous tables. He’d gotten the address of the wedding venue, but he’d long pushed it to the back of his head. He didn’t even realize where he was and suddenly, the glorious ballroom was a suffocating prison he couldn't want to get out of.

“It won’t be as big, of course, but we’ve also gotten the upper garden for the ceremony. Afterwards, everyone will move in here for the reception,” she told him. Her eyes sparkled at the talk of her wedding and Naozumi couldn’t ignore the dull aching in his chest. 

He didn’t want to be reminded of the fact that she was marrying another man. He turned his head towards the dessert table. “I should start setting up. Guests are supposed to be arriving soon.”

He caught the brief look of disappointment in her green eyes, but pretended to be distracted with his job. She gave him another smile, this time nodding with understanding.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Are you going to stay until clean up?”

“No, I’m just dropping off the pastries-”

“Then come see me before you go.” She took a step forward, her hand reaching out and grabbing on to the crisp, rolled up sleeve of his white chef’s uniform. His heart leapt to his throat. Makoto didn’t seem to think anything of it. “Bring some food back with you.” 

Her look was earnest and Naozumi could only give her a feeble nod and smile. “Of course. I’ll come by once I set up.” 

Only then did she release his sleeve, satisfied with his answer. “Great! I’ll see you later!” 

“Kino-san, you’re wanted in the kitchen!” Someone called out. He had a feeling she’d linger around if she wasn’t called. She sighed and turned around, telling the assistant dressed in black and white that she’d be right there. 

Naozumi couldn’t help but watch her leave before letting out a low, tired breath. He must’ve set up faster than he’d ever done in his life, making the last several trips to the catering van and back in record speed. Once he was remotely satisfied with the set up, he left a spare box of pastries in the kitchen.

He wanted to avoid Makoto, but knew it was rude to just vanish when he said he’d look for her. Luckily for him, he supposed, her assistant ran up to him with a paper bag of food and explained that she was caught up preparing the main dish and couldn't see him personally. He gave his thanks and hastily returned to the van.

It wasn’t until he was safely buckled in that he let out a breath and slumped over the steering wheel. Her elated look at the ballroom made it clear she was excited for the wedding and it pained him even though he knew she would be happy. 

Naozumi turned on the van and pulled out his phone from his pocket. Mindlessly, he scrolled through his work calendar until he came to the date in the spring. He sat up straight in the driver’s seat and frowned. 

In clear black letters were ‘Hyatt Shinjuku’ under ‘Kino’. However, it was blocked right next to a far more important wedding: Mamoru’s. He narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t like him to double book. 

Then again, since he was attending Mamoru’s wedding, it was obvious that he couldn’t attend Makoto’s and had a valid excuse not to personally come. He’d just send one of the managers to deliver the desserts in his stead. He wouldn’t have to witness the woman who he had fallen in love with marry another man at all. 

Except that right under ‘Mamoru’s wedding’ was its location:  _ Hyatt Shinjuku _ .

* * *

He wouldn’t say that he was hiding from his co-star. Junya was more actively avoiding her. He remained seated on a low rock behind a larger rock formation in the garden, listening in case someone was calling for him and making sure that it was his manager or one of the assistants on set. 

Not the beautiful actress who was clinging on to him and had scared away any other woman or man that showed the slightest non-work related interest in him. Not that he would’ve been interested. 

Suddenly, he jumped a bit as his phone began to vibrate in his hand. He looked down and saw his manager’s name on the screen. He let out a low breath and swept his finger across the screen.

“Where are you?” Takai, his manager, sounded frantic, though his voice was a sharp and low whisper. Junya’s brows knit together. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“I’m in the east garden. Is something wrong? I told the assistant director where I’d be if I’m needed.” He rose to his feet and peeked around the large stones he was taking shelter behind. 

“The assistant director is trying to calm Abe-san down after a series of NGs. The director wants you to shoot some scenes while she’s in the make-up room.” 

Junya internally celebrated. He loved his work, but ever since his co-star had divorced, she seemed to be targeting him and everyone knew it. If she wasn’t in the midst of acting, she was sticking to him. After a few days of that, he began to find ways to avoid her. Now, he only came out when they needed to shoot a scene with him in it.

He rushed to the location where Takai told him and found his manager standing there. The director was going over some footage and raised his eyes to look over a screen as Junya reached them.

“Jade-san, good. This is out of order for today, but if we can get your remaining on location scenes shot all at once, we can save some time.” 

“That sounds great. I’m up for it.” Junya gave the director an obedient bow of his head and proceeded to be led off to go over the scene. 

When he was acting, he was completely immersed in the process. It was a sort of single minded focus and he hardly noticed anything outside of the scene except the director and assistant director, who’d stop him if necessary. For the most part, today’s shooting was going smoothly and he was only stopped thrice. 

“I want to see you run after the car. Remember: you’re likely never going to see her again,” the director said. “This should devastate you, even though you know she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Junya nodded and gave himself a little shake, as if to clear his mind of his past attempts and get into the instructed mindset. He returned to the starting point, silently repeating to himself that he’d never see the woman he loved again. He took a deep breath as the crew returned to their spots. 

“Action!” 

He lifted his head, looking directly at the car parked on the curb of the street that had been zoned off to film. His breath shook as he took a step forward, his eyes squinting as his steps grew faster, more frantic. 

“Kamiya...Kamiya!” He raced towards the car, extending his arms as his face flushed at his will, completing the look of desperation. The car turned into the street and began to merge with traffic as he reached the curb, stumbling out onto the road after it. 

Tears were in his eyes as he yelled the name of the protagonist once more . 

“Cut! Good job, Jade-san! You’re done for the day!” 

He tilted his head back and placed his hands on his hips as he cracked a small, tired smile and nodded, satisfied with his work. He turned around, intent on speaking with Takai about his schedule when his skin began to crawl at the sight of Abe-san standing right next to his manager, waiting for him. 

Was she there the whole time? She was professional enough not to bother him while he was acting, but once he was done, that was a completely different story. 

“Jade-san!” She clapped her hands together and beamed, looking far more perky than she should. “You were so amazing! I heard Director Fuu only stopped you three times right now. So much better than Godai-san. He kept messing up our scenes!”

That wasn’t how he heard it, but Junya nodded none-the-less. “Thank you, Abe-san.” He diverted his attention to his manager. “Takai-san, what else is planned for today?”

“You’re done a bit earlier than scheduled, but you’re filming a cooking segment on  _ Viva Live _ in three hours. We don’t have to rush-”

“Great!” Abe-san was somehow between him and his manager. “I have one more scene and then I’m done for the day, too. Why don’t we go out-”

“Jade-san!” Another voice cut her off and she barely contained her scowl. Junya turned towards the voice with thanks. One of the crew members was waving to get his attention. “You have a visitor!”

He didn’t even hear the last few words. All he saw was the elegant black-haired woman in a sharp blush and tan pants suit holding a folder against her. Almost immediately, his heart quickened as the tension in his shoulders relaxed. 

Rei raised a pale, slender hand and removed her designer sunglasses from her face. It wasn’t fair that she was so beautiful and intimidating. Junya forgot all about his manager and co-star as he walked towards her, as if entranced. 

Since the night where they had the unfortunate pleasure of running into his birth father and his wife, they hadn’t seen each other in person. All communication was in the form of emails and occasional phone calls when an email was too slow. Junya had even gone back to the office once, but Rei was out and he dealt with the more senior Midorikawa-sensei instead. 

The senior lawyer noticed his eyes darting around and looking back at the door and hallway beyond it for the duration of their meeting and finally told him that “Hino-san is off-site, assisting Takamura-sensei today.” There was clear amusement in her voice, but Junya still pretended he wasn’t hoping to run into the young lawyer. 

It was enough to hear her voice, even if it was just asking for information. Besides, it wasn’t as if they’d progressed to anything further that night. He’d dragged her to the yakitori place, but she pulled him back, stopping him just before they could go inside. He turned to look at her and she withdrew her hand from his.

It pained him to see her bow her head and apologize. 

“No, this is my fault,” he told her, but she shook her head. He wanted to reach down and stop her from bowing, but stopped himself. He knew he wasn’t close enough to extend a hand and touch her yet. He could only clench is fist at his side. “It was my father and his wife that started this. I can’t believe they had the nerve to even ask such a thing.”

He watched her shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath. “Regardless, I should’ve handled it better as the host.”

He shook his head once more. “They’ve always been difficult to handle. I don’t blame you. But that guy who appeared....” He bit his tongue as the air around them went cold. There was a unreadably expression in her eyes and he wished he didn’t mention it.

“Let us reschedule the meal for another time,” she said. He could hear the tightness in her voice and didn’t protest. 

“Of course. Some other time.” He’d then assured her he didn’t need a ride and could take a taxi home. She apologized for her rudeness and then left. Junya could only go home, unsure what to expect the next time they meet. 

He should’ve guessed that she would pretend that nothing happened. 

“Akashi-I’m sorry, Jade-san.” The lovely lawyer corrected herself quickly, as if knowing he wanted to keep his private life private. She gave him a small bow of greeting.

“Hino-sensei, please, it’s not necessary,” he said. He’d much rather them be informal, but as things stood, there was still an air of professionalism between them that he couldn’t breach. At least, he hoped it was just professionalism. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

That was a lie. He’d hoped she’d come by sooner as he made it clear that his will and trust was an urgent matter. He’d even emailed her his schedule weekly in case she needed him for information or had things for him to review. That part wasn’t a lie. It really was urgent. He’d started to receive mail from his father and half-siblings asking when he was going to get tested for a match.

“It took a while to review all your assets and organize them accordingly,” she said. She held out the folder. “It would be best for you to review this before we finalize it. Madam, may I ask what you are doing?” 

Rei’s voice seamlessly went from cool professionalism to icy inquiry as her sharp eyes landed on Abe-san, who had followed him and almost rooted herself between them. Junya took hold of the folder Rei handed to him and glanced at his co-star. 

“Oh, I thought you were here for me,” Abe-san said in a clipped voice as she gave Rei a smile. “Aren’t you from the Takamura law office?”

“Yes. Jade-san is a client of ours,” Rei said. She didn’t lose her composure at all and Junya cheered her on in silence. She looked back at him. “If you have a moment, I would like to discuss some of the details before we proceed.”

“Yes, of course! I just finished up and have some time now. Is that fine?”

“It won’t take long.”

“I have a few hours. I just need to get to Studio Pearl by four.”

“Studio Pearl?” Rei raised a brow. She glanced over at Abe-san, who still kept a cold smile on her face. “I can give you a ride. It’s on the way back to the office.”

There was no way he was going to give up a chance to be alone with her. He didn’t care if it was just a thirty or so minute ride. He flashed her a brilliant smile. “Let me just tell my manager and I’ll be right back.”

“My car is over there,” Rei said, turning around as she motioned towards a small parking area. Her red car stood out. “You know what it looks like.” 

He couldn’t help but grin at that small hint of familiarity while his co-star visibly frowned. Junya rushed back to Takai to let him know he was getting a ride with his lawyer so they could discuss some paperwork on the way. Takai nodded, telling him not to be late to the studio before Junya said good-bye to the crew and almost sped walked to the parking lot.

For the sake of maintaining a harmonious work environment, he apologized to Abe-san, citing that he had some urgent paperwork he needed to deal with. She could only smile and assure him it was fine, but he owed her a drink. He neither agreed or disagreed as he set his focus on the red car. 

He got into the passenger’s side of the familiar beamer. As the door closed, he heard her voice.

“We can assist in filing restraining orders, too.” 

He glanced up and smiled. “Is that a joke?”

“It’s a business inquiry.” 

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I have three hours before I need to get to the studio. Is it all right to take up some of your time to look over this in depth?” 

“You’re our client and this is an urgent matter,” she said as she started the car. “There is a tea shop with private rooms near Studio Pearl. We can discuss it there.”

_ It was a date! _ His mind screamed, though he knew it wasn’t. He nodded in agreement and began to look over the contents of the folder as she drove. He expected thorough work considering the reputation of her law office, but even he was surprised. He was so engrossed, he didn’t realize they had parked in an underground lot.

Junya was even quiet, continuing looking over his assets list, as they rode the elevator to the top floor tea shop. When they arrived and the doors opened, he was surprised to find a hall lined with bamboo that led directly to a hostess station.

A middle-aged woman in a dark gray kimono bowed in greeting as she saw them. “Young miss, welcome.”

“Moriya-obaa-san.” Rei bowed in greeting and he gave a quick bow behind her. “Are there any small rooms left? We have some documents to discuss.”

“Of course. Please follow me.” The woman led them into the shop, which was more like a restaurant themed to look like a Japanese garden with courtyards and sliding screen doors. He didn’t even know there was such a place in that building and he’d worked across the street for several years at the studio. 

He would think that he would’ve heard the top floor tea shop mentioned at this point. He tried to stifle his curiosity and pay attention to where they were going. They were led to a small room with a sliding door that had been sound proofed. He could only guess the kind of clientele this tea shop catered to. 

They removed their shoes and stepped into the elevated seating area. “Kou-chan, the young miss is here. Please prepare the tea set for her.”

Before Rei took her seat on a cushion in front of a low table, she turned around. “No! No service is needed. We’ll take the sencha and some tea snacks.” 

Moriya glanced at Junya, who was surprised that Rei had rejected the order so quickly. The woman seemed to know her and assumed Rei was a regular, that was why they knew her order. The older woman’s eyes lit up and she held back a smile as she nodded.    
  


“Of course, Hino-san. I will have them served to you immediately and make sure you aren’t disturbed.” 

“Wait, it’s not like that....” Rei’s voice trailed off and Junya looked back at the papers in front of him. He held back his own smile as he noticed the slight flush on her cheeks. He heard her sigh heavily as the door closed and then take a seat in front of him. “Akashi-san, if there are any questions, please let me know.”

He nodded. “Everything is as we discussed. I just have a few more pages,” he said. Considering his circumstances, he was diligent in making sure everything was laid out the way he wanted. 

Should something happen to him, he wanted to split his assets: his remaining properties, his investments, his money, to Kouichi, Naozumi, Zen, and Mamoru, with a sizable donation also going to the various charities he and his late mother supported. 

“Regarding the charities, if your friends who are inheriting the properties want, they can continue to use a portion of the income generated to continue your charitable legacy, especially for cancer research,” Rei said. 

He paused and glanced over the top of the papers. She knew all about his family situation by now. Not just his biological father, but his financial situation and his late mother’s terminal illness. Was that why she mentioned cancer research? “Really?”

“Yes, but you should discuss it with them.” There was a knock at the door before it slid open. A young woman in a kimono bowed and brought a tray of tea and pastel colored pastries to their table. She said nothing else before bowing and slipping out. 

Rei poured tea and he couldn't help but think even that mundane movement of hers was elegant. He took a deep breath and tried to refocus on his trust. For a while, there was only the sound of her pouring tea and his shuffling papers. “Have you contacted them yet?”

“About that,” Rei said. She slid a small cup to him. She carried a serious look on her face. “I believe that if we called them without prior notification, they would be in a panic considering what this could mean. After some discussion with sensei, we would like to advise that you speak to your heirs on the nature of your situation and the trust, should something go wrong. This would alleviate their questions and concerns. It would also make them easier for us to work with in the future.”

What she said made sense and Junya had to admit that the only reason he hadn’t told them yet was because he didn’t want to worry them. However, he knew that he’d have to tell them sooner or later. He knew he was just putting off the inevitable. 

He lowered his hands and stared down at the documents. “I understand. I will discuss it with them as soon as possible.” This is what he needed, he supposed. He couldn’t keep his brothers in the dark any longer. 

Junya reached for his tea and brought it up to his lips. Across from him, Rei’s eyes were diverted to the window across the room that took over an entire wall. It looked out over the city. She narrowed her eyes. “Akashi-san, you mentioned that you spoke to a doctor regarding the procedure?”

He nodded. “Yes, she’s a highly rated physician at Tokyo University hospital. She’s also put me in touch with specialists and they’ve been of great help walking me through this.” 

“Good,” Rei said, looking back at him. “I highly suggest that you get her involved when you speak to your friends. Having a medical expert there will ease their worries.”

That was another good idea. He was impressed with how thorough she was. “What if we have legal questions?”

“You have my contact info,” she said. “I’d be happy to answer any questions from the heirs, as well. I’m sure something like this isn’t easy to accept, especially considering you all are still quite young. Preparing for a death is the last thing on your mind.” 

Junya nodded once more. He gathered the papers into a neat pile and slipped them into the folder. “Then, Hino-san, I will go over this with my friends and contact you. So far, everything seems in order and you’ve far exceeded my expectations.”

She looked pleased with this and nodded. “I can understand your dire situation, but I do have to stress that this is all a precaution. There is still a very good chance, you will survive.”

He let out a laugh and nearly fell back on to the tatami that lined the floor. “Hino-san, that is not quite the encouragement I was hoping to hear.”

A flush reached her face and she looked away. She cupped her small tea cup and brought it to her lips. “Since you insisted it was a rush, you made it seem like the end of the world....”

He wiped at the corners of his eyes and nodded. “I know. And I’m grateful to both you and the office for your help. Really, this puts my mind at ease.” He tapped the folder. “But don’t think I’m going into this expecting to die.”

“I would think you wouldn’t. Tokyo University Hospital does a lot of research, but their doctors are some of the best in the country.” She spoke with such confidence, he wondered if she had experience with them. Still, he furrowed his brows.

“The surgery likely won’t be done at the Tokyo University Hospital.” 

He watched her tense. She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean? Didn’t you say that the doctor you spoke to is from that hospital? And the tests you took to see if you were a match when through that hospital, too, didn’t it?”

“Yes and yes, but my father has already selected a hospital and surgeon on his end that he trusts once I confirm the match.” 

Her red lips drew into a tight line and he could sense her disapproval. “What do you know about this hospital and surgeon?”

He furrowed his brows and dug into his back pocket for his phone. He’d taken photos of the papers and letters his father had been bombarding him with. It seemed easier and more convenient to reference. He pulled the notice he received. 

“It’s a privately owned hospital in Funabashi. He wanted to be closer to where he and his family lives, apparently, so that they can come see him easily when he’s recovering.” 

“Have you looked up the hospital and gotten information on the doctor who’ll perform the surgery?” 

“No, not yet.”

“I highly suggest you do,” Rei told him in a stern voice. The frown on her lips hadn’t left. “The ability of the doctor could have a strong impact on your survival rate, Akashi-san. Don’t just trust anyone.” 

* * *

“Hospitals in Funabashi?” Mizuno-sensei was speaking through a small Bluetooth earpiece as she loaded his fridge with the last of his free catered food. After that weekend, he’d be able to use crutches and move around, meaning he could leave his apartment - which he was now sick of - and get whatever food he wanted.

Until then, Zen sat impatiently on his wheelchair, waiting for the doctor to finish so they could start on his home visit. Once she confirmed he was still smoothly on the path to recovery, he could get his crutches, get his braces adjusted, and go to physical therapy. He could almost taste his freedom.

“No, I don’t know any surgeons there. Why do you ask?” Zen didn’t pay much attention to her as he remained at the dining table, drawing on a tablet. He’d gotten surprisingly good at using his non-dominant hand to draw. At this rate, he’d be ambidextrous; just another talent of his. “I see...Of course, I’ll look into it. I’ll get that information. No, it won’t be difficult.” 

He couldn’t help but glance over at the pretty blue-haired woman who was now standing and staring seriously at his counter as she talked. He frowned and looked down at his phone at his side. His home visit time wasn’t exactly an appointment; it was more when Mizuno-sensei could come by. 

Zen should’ve already been grateful that she’d take personal time to check on him, but he really wanted to get off the wheelchair. As he looked at the time on the screen, his phone began to vibrate. 

Junya’s idiototic face appeared on the screen and he rolled his eyes. 

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you guys.” As usual, Junya didn’t respond to his indifferent greeting.

Zen frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Are you free this evening? The others have some time and I need to discuss something with you guys,” Junya said.

“What do you need to discuss?” 

There was a pause on the other end. “I had a run in with my father and something’s come up.” Zen knew better than to ask for all the information right then and there. He glanced up, towards Mizuno-sensei, who was putting her headset away and gathering her things. 

“Yeah, I’m free tonight,” he said. “Is it serious?”

“A bit. I’ll tell you when I get there. Kou and the others said they’ll come by after work. Nao is heading over after he makes sure his catering orders are done. He said he’ll bring food.” 

“All right,” Zen said. “I’ll see you later.”

“ _ Un _ ...” Junya hung up and Zen stared down at his frown with a frown. None of them liked Junya’s father. The old man had caused a scene at Junya’s mother’s memorial and then there was all the trauma he put Junya through as a child. Any brush with him was bad. 

“Is something wrong?” Mizuno-sensei knelt down beside him, stethoscope in hand. “We’ve discussed your being too excited. You’re healing well now, but you still need to be careful. If you rush into things-”

“I’ll make it worse. I know. I know. You’ve told me every time you check on me and Kouichi is constantly sending me texts to remind me,” Zen said, annoyed. “I’ve been very careful. I know to take my time and not push myself. More than anyone else, I want to get back to normal.”

She didn’t say anything as she checked his injuries and made notes. “All right, it looks like we can change your leg brace and get you on crutches.” 

A triumphant smile filled his face as he watched her stand and return her things back to her bag. Without a word, she headed to his door. He furrowed his brows. “Hey...where are you going?” She wasn’t leaving, was she? Why was she leaving behind her bag and coat? He heard his door opening and some rustling out in the foyer. Suddenly, she reappeared with a large, long box. His eyes went wide. “Are those....?”   
  


“I didn’t want to bring them in in case there was an unforeseen problem. Patients often get too excited upon the sight of equipment because it’s a step closer to their healing, but it’s quite a blow to them if they see the equipment there, but can’t use them.” She placed the box on the floor and opened it. All the packing materials had been cleaned out; it was just the crutches and a brace, meaning she’d probably readied it in advance. “First, we need to change your brace.”

Zen was more than happy to comply. He did everything she told him to and if his friends saw him, they’d wonder when he became so obedient. Once his arm and leg braces were in place, Mizuno-sensei began to adjust the crutches to his body. His good hand was gripping the armrest of his wheelchair in anticipation.

“I don’t suggest using it all the time at first. Take your time getting used to it and transition slowly. If you over do it, you’ll fall again.” 

“Yes, yes, I know....” He placed his arm over the crutch and wiggled it against him.

“How is it? Is the height all right?”

“It’s perfect!”

“All right. Let’s take a step.” With her at his side, he began to take slow, small steps forward. He’d stop after each one to readjust himself and make sure he was comfortable. After a while, Mizuno-sensei stepped back and observed carefully as he walked around the living room and dining room table. 

“Not bad,” Zen said, more to himself as he took a small break. “With this, I can go down to the conbini.” He saw the doctor open her mouth and he cut her off. “I know, I know. I won’t strain myself.” 

She looked a bit relieved and nodded. She dug into her bag and took out a small, stapled set of papers. “Here are some additional instructions. If possible, please record how you feel, if you feel any strain. If there is any aching, even the slightest, please call me immediately or come to the hospital, as it may be a sign of something more serious.”

Zen nodded once more, still carefully trudging around the room as she placed the papers next to his work area. “The next time you come over, I shouldn’t have to use the wheel chair anymore, right?”

“This will be my last home visit.” He stopped where he was, behind one of the living room chairs, and looked up at her. “You will be able to get to the hospital for check-ups now.” 

Of course. That made perfect sense. Now that he was mobile, he was completely able to get to the hospital for his check-ups without too much of a problem. Zen should’ve been excited at the freedom that was allotted, but he didn’t expect the sudden disappointment. His face was blank as he offered her a quiet “Oh...right.”

“Any general physician will be able to see you, but if you’d like to continue seeing me, please go ahead and call the number on my card to schedule an appointment.” 

It didn’t even occur to Zen that he’d be seen by another doctor. He’d grown used to her visits every few days to both deliver food and check his injury. She’d also send a report to a group chat with him and his friends detailing his status and what to look out for. Kouichi had requested updates and he added the others. 

Honestly, it was like they couldn’t trust him with his own health....

“I will call for an appointment, Mizuno-sensei. Thank you so much for your assistance,” he said. “The next time you come over, though, I should be able to take your measurements for your dress.” 

She gave him a kind smile. “I told you, Isono-san, it’s not necessary. Usagi’s dress was my primary concern.”

He gave her a dismissing wave of his good hand. “How can you say that after all you’ve done for me? You’ve brought me food, checked my injury, and even brought me my crutches and helped adjust them.”

“I had given my word to be of assistance.”

He snorted and gave her a knowing look. “The only thing you haven’t done is helped me bathe. Which is the first thing I’m going to do as soon as you leave. I haven’t had a proper bath in weeks....” He made a disgusted face at himself. He’d at best rinsed himself off, but usually just sponge bathed himself. He had to wash his hair with one hand. It was irritating and he didn’t feel clean.

Mizuno-sensei tilted her head to the side and knit her brows together. “Do you need help with that?”

He looked at her and blinked. Did he hear her correctly? “What?” 

“Do you need me to help you take a bath?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She is a DOCTOR, people. A medical professional! 
> 
> Anyway, so far out of everyone except Usagi and Mamoru, Ami is likely to know how everyone is connected. Rei is also smart and has seen some stuff working in the law office; could she be on to something? Was Minako after Kunzite the whole time? When will Nephrite connect the dots? O_O
> 
> Also, thank you for your patience. I'm not dead, I just got really lazy and am trying to learn to cook. I'm sorry for the delay, but am very grateful for your time. Have a great holiday season! Stay safe!


	6. Chapter 6

His mind couldn’t find any words to reply to the doctor’s offer, but his arms unconsciously rose to cover his chest. “Wha...what are you...?”

“It has been quite a while since I’ve been more active in my patients’ day to day needs, Isono-san, but I am still able to assist one when necessary,” Mizuno-sensei said. She stretched out her arms in front of her and turned to the side. “I know where your bathroom is. I’ll prepare accordingly. Please prepare to undress.” She walked towards the box that had the crutches and pulled out a plastic device. “When you’re ready, I’ll help you in the bath.” 

She stood up and pulled out the legs on the device. It was a bathroom stool with grip pads. It took another moment for all of this to be processed by Zen and he shook his head.

“Wait! I never said I needed your help!” He hobbled over, as quickly as he could on his crutch. “You don’t need to go this far!”

He snatched the stool from her hand and shot her a defiant glare. Mizuno-sensei raised a brow. “Isono-san, I understand that you think I am incapable of being of assistance, but I have helped people far larger than you in the past and can properly support you. You don’t need to worry about overwhelming me.”

His mind was screaming. That was not what he was worried about! In fact, the thought didn’t even cross his mind but now that she mentioned it, she was rather petite, wasn’t she? How would she be able to support him on her cute, small frame? 

Wait no...what is the adjective?  _ Cute _ ? No, no, no, he meant  _ frail _ . 

Zen shook his head. “It’s not that I doubt your strength, Mizuno-sensei. However, haven’t I troubled you enough?” 

“It’s no trouble. On the contrary, if I instruct you on how to properly bathe with your brace now, the chance of a mistake happening later on is greatly lessened,” she said, as if explaining some research paper to him. “Most patients usually have someone who can assist them, but in your case, as you live alone, you will need to be very cautious when bathing. After all, your movements are still severely limited and you could hurt yourself, resulting in prolonging the recovery process, if not make the injury worsen-”

“I get it, I get it,” Zen said as he tilted his head back. He took a deep breath and grit his teeth. “Then, I will trouble you for assistance this once, Mizuno-sensei.” 

She gave him a nod. “Then please, take a seat. Once I prepare the bathroom, I will help you undress.”

She said it with such a straight face, Zen almost wanted to scream. Could she look at least a bit embarrassed? He understood that she was a doctor and he was her patient, so of course this was purely professional. However, that was the problem, wasn’t it? It was  _ too  _ professional. 

This woman had been watching over him for weeks now, even going as far as to come to his place and nurse him back to health - in a way, at least. Did she have no personal feelings towards him aside from her best friend’s fiancee’s friend, whom she needed to make a wedding dress? He almost felt used.

“Isono-san.” Her voice came from the hall as she stepped out. “I’ve prepared the bathroom. Would you prefer to undress out here or in your bedroom?”

He felt so defeated at that moment. “Bedroom....”

She nodded and moved over to his side. She took the stool from him and followed close behind as he made his way to his room. There, she had him sit on the edge of the bed and took the crutch from under his arm and placed it to the side, along with the stool. As she reached forward for his button up shirt, he turned his body away.

“I can undress myself,” he said. “I still have one good hand. Just...just get me my robe!” 

“Of course. Where is it?” She stood up and glanced around. The terry cloth, ice blue robe was hanging on a hook on the back of his door. “Is this it?”

“Yes....” Zen was distracted, keeping his head low and unbuttoning his shirt with one hand. He could feel her eyes on him, watching as if waiting to call him out on a mistake. Surprisingly, she stood a few steps without a word, patiently waiting as he shrugged off one side of his shirt and then carefully maneuvered it around his injured shoulder and off of the bent other arm. 

“You’re quite skillful. Have you gotten used to using just one arm?”

“What other choice do I have,” Zen said in a low voice. He was still wearing a loose fitting pair of shorts, and a leg brace, but otherwise he was exposed to her. He took a deep breath and looked up to meet her big, blue eyes. 

“Do you need me to take off your pants?” She spoke before he could ask her to turn around so he could do so himself. Color flooded his face as his eyes crinkled up.

“No! I can take off my own pants!”

“Then I’ll leave this with you,” she said, placing the robe next to him. “I trust you’ll need your crutch?”  
“No,” he said. “I can change on the bed.” She tilted her head, a bit confused. He could feel his face burning. “I lay down on the edge of the bed and push the pants off.” 

“Oh, I see. Then you won’t put any strain on your injured leg.” She nodded. Zen leaned back and carefully braced himself with his good arm on the bed. He slipped his thumb under the band of his shorts when he froze. 

His sharp eyes sent her a glare. “Are you going to stand there and watch?” 

“Yes.” 

What was wrong with this woman’s mind? “Get out!”

“What if-”

“I’ve been doing this for weeks! I’ll put on my robe and come out! I can do this much!” Zen couldn’t help but rage. He was frustrated that she thought him incompetent and that he took so long to do even the smallest thing. He wasn’t helpless. 

As if by some miracle, the doctor gave him a nod and turned around. She stepped out the door with the stool in hand and closed it, leaving a small gap between the door and its frame. “I’ll wait in the hall. Please call if you are experiencing difficulty.”

“ _ You’re _ difficult....” Zen muttered under his breath as he tugged off his pants and let them drop to the floor. He sat up and slowly put on his robe. When he was on, he over lapped the front and loosely tied it closed with one hand. He then reached for his crutch and pushed himself up.

He was still very slow, but at least he could do it himself. He just needed to be patient and cautious. 

He walked towards the door and pulled it open. Mizuno-sensei was waiting for him and he caught her eyes give him a once over before nodding, as if satisfied he managed to get that far.

“All right. I’ve placed the bath stool in the bathroom. Do you need me to-” She extended her arms towards him and Zen moved away to avoid her. 

He moved too fast for his body and suddenly, he was stumbling backwards. He could feel his injured leg fly up as his crutch slipped out from under his arm. His good leg wobbled. His good arm flailed. His eyes went wide for just a moment before he shut them tight and braced himself for a fall. 

Zen didn’t feel the cold, hard floor as he expected. He cracked an eye open and found a pretty face hovering above him. 

“Be careful,” Mizuno-sensei said as she adjusted him in her arms and carefully tilted him back into a standing position. “You’re not used to the crutch yet.” 

His heart was racing as the position he was in was made aware. She had reached out to not just steady him, but catch him in those pale, frail arms of hers. His entire body heated up as he tensed. Zen’s eyes darted anywhere but at her as she re-positioned his crutch under his arm. 

“How is it? Can you stand all right?” she asked. His eyes flashed towards her, his face darkening a bit. How could she sound so calm and composed? 

He took a deep breath and forced himself to match her attitude. “I’m fine,” he said in a equally calm voice. “You just surprised me for a moment.”

“I see...I apologize.” 

“You’re forgiven,” he said in a haughty voice as he turned his head away to avoid her eyes. He felt his robe being tugged and he snapped his head back. The doctor was fussing with the belt. His face burned as he screamed. “What are you doing!?” His good hand came down and swatted her away. 

“Your robe opened when you fell,” she said in a deadpan voice as she secured his robe closed. She looked up at him with a seemingly exasperated face. “Isono-san, please don’t be embarrassed. I am a doctor, after all. I’ve seen many patients’ bodies,” she said, as if to drill home the fact that this was professional. Zen was still flushed and he let out a grumble before hobbling towards the open bathroom door. He made it to the entrance and glanced inside. 

She had set up the bathroom stool close to the shower head and laid out his various bath accessories within arm’s reach. However, the bath wasn’t filled.

“I said I wanted to take a bath.” He frowned and gave her an accusing look.

“While the braces are waterproof, it’s very easy to slip getting in and out of the tub, not to mention when you are in it,” Mizuno-sensei said. “It’s best that you stick to showers right now.”

His lip almost trembled. He really wanted to just sit in the tub and unwind. Didn’t she know how hard it’s been for him the last few weeks? He was so frustrated and tired of his situation that he was going to go mad. 

Zen saw her blue hair pass him as she stepped into the bathroom and to the tub. She pressed some buttons on the wall and suddenly, the sound of rushing water echoed in the tile lined chamber. He furrowed his brows.

“What are you doing?” 

“If you want to take a bath, I can help you,” she said. “It’s difficult to maneuver as it is with a crutch. Leave it at the door and I’ll help you.” 

Zen let out a sharp gasp. Sure, he wanted to take a long, hot bath...but at what cost?

As if seeing the hesitation written all over his face, Mizuno-sensei sighed. “Isono-san, you don’t have a caretaker right now and I can help you. Please accept my help. I will only help you wash up and then get in and out of the tub. That is all.” He was still guarded. She seemed to purse her lips and think for a moment. “In addition, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Your body is quite fit.”

He tensed. His eyes narrowed as his good arm rose to cover his chest once more. “How do you know that?” 

Did she peep on him when he was changing? She was there for half of it, and was right - his body was quite fit, even after weeks of being stuck in a wheelchair and eating rich foods; however, her words made him very conscious of himself. And was that her personal opinion? Did he match up to her taste of what ‘fit’ was? 

Mizuno-sensei blinked. “When you arrived at the hospital after the accident, I was the attending physician. We had to undress you then.” 

He had woken up in a hospital gown. How could he forget? Slowly, heat flooded his body. That meant that she had not only seen his bare chest. 

“I’ve already seen everything, Isono-san,” she said. “There is nothing for you to be ashamed of.” 

He eyed the half empty tub and silently wondered if he could drown in it. 

In his daze, she got her way. She put aside his crutch and removed his robe. She gingerly helped him sit on the stool, giving in instruction along the way and then turned around to face the wall so he could wash himself with his good hand. The problem came when it was time to wash his hair.

He wouldn’t call it a rat’s nest, but it was far from the luxurious, silky curls he was so proud of. He swore as he tried to lather in the 2-in-1 shampoo Kouichi brought for him in an attempt to make the process of washing his hair less troublesome. Working with one hand was limited and he often got tired, so most of the time, he’d been using dry shampoo.

“Let me do it,” a voice said behind him. 

“It’s fine, sensei. I can do this myself.”

“Yes, but we don’t have all evening, do we?” she asked. He scowled. He turned his head towards her to glare and found her handing him a towel. She looked at him and then glanced down at his lap. 

He sucked in a sharp breath and snatched the white towel from her hand and used it to cover himself. She stood behind him and grasped the shower head. Cool, soft hands tilted his head back and the warm water cascaded over his scalp to rinse off the cheap shampoo. When his hair was clean, he thought he was done, but saw her pumping a dollop of white shampoo from his expensive shampoo bottle into her hand.

With expertise, she rubbed it between her hands and began to massage it into his head. Zen felt his body relax. This was...quite nice. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting off as his hair was washed and conditioned. 

“You’re better at this than expected, Mizuno-sensei,” he said with a smirk as she twisted his hair up and used a large black butterfly clip that was clipped to the shower bar to hold his hair up. “Did you moonlight as a hairdresser while in med school?” 

“No, a friend used to get into a lot of fights. When she sprained her wrists, she asked me for help. Her hair is very long and beautiful, so she is particular with it,” she said. “Give me your arm.” 

He struggled to keep the towel over himself as she helped him stand and then into the bath. As she lowered him into the hot water, he watched bubbles come up from the brace. He’d need to have the padding washed. As he leaned back against the back of the tub, he found that she’d placed a rolled up towel for him to rest his head on.

Zen couldn’t help but feel giddy and pampered. Sure, she saw him naked, but it was a small price to pay for this long missed luxury. Besides, didn’t she compliment him? 

“I’ll be outside the door. Please call me when you’re ready to get up. Do  _ not  _ attempt to get out by yourself,” she said. He shrank back a bit. He could’ve sworn that her last sentence was a threat. 

The door closed behind her and Zen allowed himself to fully relax in the bath. His face broke out into a smile as he relished the long awaited bath. Not only was he feeling clean, but his hair was clean and his body was relaxing. Perhaps getting the good doctor’s assistance wasn’t such a bad thing. He could get used to this kind of treatment. 

Kouichi was too rough and nagged him until his ears bled.

Naozumi always seemed uncertain about what to do and would question all of Zen’s movements, resulting in more nagging.

Junya would only watch him and frown, telling him that if he didn’t do this or that, he’d make it worse and never sew another dress again. 

And Zen absolutely forbade Mamoru from having to take care of him. Mamoru didn’t need another distraction in his life and besides, as the big brother, he didn’t need his younger brother taking care of him. Junya had pointed out that he, too, was a younger brother. Kouichi had snorted and said “Yes, but you’re useless anyway.” 

Mizuno-sensei’s nagging was accompanied by logic and reason. Everything she said and did was with purpose and so, Zen didn’t feel as if his time was being wasted. This entire situation was because she was showing him how to do it himself. Of course, taking a long bath was out of the question considering the danger of slipping in his condition. Unless of course...there was someone who could help him.

Zen drifted off into relaxation and almost fell asleep. The sound of knocking came from the door.

“Isono-san. It’s been almost an hour. Are you ready to get out?”

He let out a reluctant sigh. His fingers were all pruny and he had to meet his brothers that night. “I’m ready.”

The door slid open and Mizuno-sensei walked in. She had a large towel draped over her shoulder and carefully helped him stand and get out of the tub. As soon as they were out, she wrapped him in the towel and helped him out. She layered on his robe then helped him back to his bedroom to change. 

Once he was seated on the bed, he told her where his clothes were and once she laid them out beside him, she turned to leave.

“Where are you going?”

She raised a brow. “To wait for you in the hall.”

Zen lifted his chin up. “Aren’t you going to change me?” 

She gave him a curious look. “Are you comfortable with that?”

In all honesty, no. However, since she was there, she might as well pamper him more. “I don’t want to fall again.” In his mind, it was a very legitimate excuse. 

Mizuno-sensei didn’t seem to over think it and nodded. “All right.” 

“And afterwards, blow dry my hair. It gets frizzy when it’s not.” 

“Of course.”

“Then...help me heat up my meal.” She paused in the middle of weaving the sleeve of a pajama top over his braced arm. 

“Is that really necessary?”

Zen met her eyes, almost defiant. “Yes,” he said. “Have dinner with me.” 

She lowered her eyes and continued dressing him. “Isono-san, you only have a set amount of meals to last you until the next delivery.”

He watched her slender fingers button up his pajama top as she knelt in front of him. His body from the waist down still had a towel wrapped around him. At first, he didn’t think it would affect her, but from this angle, he could see the tips of her ears peek out from beneath her blue hair. 

A wide grin filled his face. Her ears were red. 

“Then the next time you come over, bring dinner along. I’ll pay for it, of course,” he said. 

She lifted her head to look at him, confused. “Next time?”

Zen smirked. “Didn’t I say you’re very good at this, Mizuno-sensei?” he asked in a confident voice. “For the first time in a while, I feel clean and at ease because of your help. Do you really think I’d let you go?” 

* * *

“We need something that can get us started. What about the preliminary designs?” Kouichi said as he quickly texted Junya back about meeting up at Zen’s in the evening. He slipped his phone into his pocket as he walked with a trio from his department regarding a new project.

“Takaishi-san, the concept art has been created, but they are still doing some testing with the product to make sure that the final and the concepts don’t differ too much,” one of his staff said. 

“Have them send me what they have,” Kouichi said in a stern voice. “It’s never too early to get started and get a feel for what we want-” He suddenly sucked in a sharp breath as he saw a familiar blonde woman talking in the hall with another co-worker, just outside the series of meeting rooms they were about to pass.

“Takaishi-san?” Haseda, his junior who had caught him in the alley with Minako that night of the celebratory dinner, looked up from her tablet. She furrowed her brows and followed his gaze. She cringed. “Takaishi-san, please remember that we will be working with them often in the future.” 

He fought the urge to scowl and defend himself, however, he still gave the trio a frown. Why did everyone think he was going to start an argument with the woman every time they met? Sure, that’s what has always happened in the past and his track record spoke for itself, however, he wasn’t going to start a fight for no reason.

He opened his mouth to brush off Haseda’s words when his other subordinate perked up. “Oh, Aino-san’s coming this way.”

An indescribable surge of panic filled him and without thinking, Kouichi darted into the nearest meeting room, shutting the door on his staff. He glanced around the empty room, silently thanking whatever powers that be that it was empty and he didn’t make too big of a fool of himself. 

“Takaishi-san?” The youngest member of his team knocked on the door. “Is everything all right?” 

“Sorry, Yamaguchi, I’m taking a personal call,” he said, mustering up the most confident and calm voice he could. “Continue on without me. I’ll see you all after I take this call.”

He was sure his subordinates were exchanging very confused looks, but he didn’t elaborate, nor did he dare open the door. 

Instead, he paced the room, his brows knit together as he tried to kill time until he came out, successfully avoiding Minako. He circled the rectangular meeting table that sat eight people thrice before the door opened. He looked up and his heart shot to his throat.

Shoot, he forgot to check to see if the meeting room was booked. If that was the case, he’d be kicked out immediately. He collected himself and took out his phone to pretend that he was talking to buy some more time. 

The door opened and he paled. 

A smug look appeared on the red lips of the blue-eyed blonde woman as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her. The door clicked shut and he swallowed hard. In the past, she’d always look at him with defiance and a hint of arrogance, but right now, she was looking at him as if she was going to devour him whole.

And he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little turned on by that. 

“Takaishi-san,” she said. Her soft pink tongue darted out and licked those red lips. “Good afternoon.”

Silently, he wondered if he was fast enough to get around her in order to run out the door. She was lingering by it and he couldn’t get around her if he tried. 

Instead, he pasted on a professional look on his face and gave her a ‘work smile’. “Good afternoon, Aino-san. Did you have meetings with us today?”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “The new interactive mirrors.”

He nodded. “Oh, Project Venus. That’s a good project.” She took a step forward and he instinctively took a step back. “The lead for that is Ogura-san, isn’t it? She’s one of our best designers. We’re expecting good things.” His back hit the wall and he tensed. 

“Takaishi-san-”

“Did you have this room at this time?” He said suddenly as he made his way around the table, trying not to make it too obvious that he was keeping his distance from her. “If so, I’m sorry for holding you up. You must have a meeting-”

“I don’t have a meeting, but I did book it for an hour.” 

“Oh...did you need a workstation? We have touchdown cubicles for visiting off-site workers that you can reserve.” He gave her a winning smile as his eyes darted to the door that she was still too close to. 

She narrowed her eyes as she looked at him. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” Kouichi stood up straight and put on a stoic look. “Aino-san, no matter how much we disagree on some things, it would be unprofessional of me to avoid you every time I see you.” 

“The other day, I saw you in the lobby and the moment we made eye contact, you ran to the elevator.”

“I was late for a meeting.”

“It was lunch time.”

“Lunch meeting.” 

She raised a brow. She took a deep breath and jutted out her hip, placing her hand on it and giving him a critical look. “I booked this room for an hour. It should be enough time to...figure this out.”

He squinted. “Figure what out?” 

She moved forward and was suddenly right in front of him. She grabbed his expensive silk tie and pulled him down. “I think you know.” 

He swallowed. “Aino-san, I have a meeting-”

“Haseda-san said you didn’t have any more meetings this afternoon,” Minako said in a firm voice. “Take a seat, Takaishi-san.”

She released him and stepped back. Kouichi blindly reached for the back of a rolling desk chair and when it was next to him, he took a seat. His heart was racing. What was she going to do to him?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down. She wasn’t going to hurt him. She just probably wanted to discuss what happened that night in the alley. Honestly, he’d rather she hurt him. 

“Then, what do you want to talk about?” he asked, appearing composed despite his heart slamming against his chest. 

Her aggressive look softened a bit as she shifted uncomfortably a few seats from him. He raised a brow. Did she suddenly lose her nerve? As if his thoughts were an insult to her, she took a deep breath and stood up straight. She met his eyes and the next words that came out of her mouth stunned him. 

“I like you,” she said. “Please go out with me.” 

Not to brag, but he had received plenty of confessions in his day, but none of them hit him like a truck like this one did. 

This woman, who he had started out as enemies with, and ended up making out in an alley with, had just told him something that many other people would kill for. And all he could do was stare at her.

“What?” Was Junya right? Was he getting too old and his hearing was shot?

Her pretty face began to heat up. “I like you, Takaishi-san. Since we first met.”

“Since we _first_ _met_?” If he recalled, their first meeting was more hostile than a war zone. Yet, she nodded, her eyes looking away as she appeared uncharacteristically bashful. “Why? How?” 

She looked at him, surprised he asked. “You’re a good leader.” That was not the answer he was expecting and his jaw almost dropped. “You’re good to your subordinates and responsible. Everyone speaks highly of you from the front desk ladies to senior staff. And when I was doing my research for this account, I could trace at least 75% of the product release successes directly to you.”

“You...thought highly of me?” This was unexpected.

Minako nodded. “Yes. I still do think highly of you.” The corners of his lips began to turn upwards. “Even though your ideas are kind of outdated and you’re far too cautious that it could cause a release to lag.” His lips shot down into frown. 

“Then why were you so combative during the initial project meetings?” he said. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her warily, as if this was some sort of trap.

“Because you were wrong and being stubborn.”

He stiffened. “I wasn’t being-” He shut his mouth closed and took a deep breath. “Aino-san.”

“Minako.”

He rolled his eyes. “Minako-san.” He watched her eyes light up when he called her name and couldn’t stop the guilt welling inside of him. “Minako-san. I’m very flattered that you like me.” The light in her eyes automatically dimmed, as if she knew instinctively where this was going. “However, I don’t think it’s appropriate to mix private, personal matters with work matters.”

Her eyes crinkled up and she appeared to be trying to process his words. “How is this mixing the two? At best, we’re colleagues.” 

“Regardless, I would prefer to maintain a professional working relationship with you,” he said as he stepped around her. “You are a fantastic advertising manager and we are lucky to have contracted your company. I’d hate to get involved and potentially ruin that relationship.”

He was backing out towards the door, by trying not to break eye contact and give himself away. 

The beautiful woman in front of him looked ashen as she stood in place. “But...why do you think it would be ruined?” Her voice was soft and confused. It pained him to hear her, but he pushed down any guilt and regret. 

He was a career salaryman with a clean record. He had long decided that he was going to be a forever bachelor just focusing on his career and his brothers. He knew romantic relationships took a lot of time, energy, and so forth and he didn’t have time for that. What was more, this started as a working relationship.

He knew exactly how a professional relationship turned romantic one could end up.

Kouichi watched his parents’ marriage, which started off as a professional relationship, dissolve and become ugly before he was even ten years old. It may have started well, having similar areas of interest and a common goal, but time soured that. Grudges from their home life spilled into their work life.

His father joined a rival company just to spite his mother. Just to get back at each other, they did whatever they could to target each other’s side and at one point, there was a massive lay off at his father’s new company. Why? Because his mother hated that his father got custody of him just because she was constantly working abroad. 

Many people lost their livelihoods because of them. He wasn’t willing to let his subordinates and peers suffer just because he couldn’t keep it in his pants. 

“Minako-san, I have no plans of dating or having a girlfriend, let alone getting married,” he told her, hoping that this would completely squash her hopes and stop her from pursuing him further. “Even if we weren’t colleagues, my opinion on relationships in general remains.” 

His hand rose and lingered on the door handle. Kouichi held back from pulling it open and running out. He wanted to at least hear her response. 

Minako furrowed her brows and seemed to think for a moment. “You don’t want to have a girlfriend or get married.”

He tried to remain solemn looking and nodded. “That’s correct.”

He held his breath. She looked serious and then slowly began to nod her head. “I understand.”

He let out a breath of relief and a small, bittersweet smile reached his face. “Thank-”

“But how do you feel about friends with benefits?” 

* * *

Naozumi resisted the urge to throttle Kouichi out of sheer frustration. First, just the other day, the proud bachelor passionately told them that he didn’t want to have a romantic relationship with a coworker. He had lamented about numerous, and valid, reasons why he couldn’t go out with that pretty blonde advertising agent. 

And then he had a gall to text Naozumi, in the middle of the evening rush, saying it was an emergency, only to answer Naozumi’s worried call by asking if he thought it was a good idea to be ‘friends with benefits’.

“Don’t call me during work hours again.” Naozumi coldly hung up the phone and put it silent before slipping it into the back pocket of his pants and coming out of his office. He shook his head and went to wash his hands. 

“Boss!” One of his counter clerks stuck her head through the swinging door to the kitchen. “Kino-san is here!” 

Despite himself, his heart leapt to his throat. His eyes looked up and on the other side of the table, where he was preparing three trays of various pastries, one of the assistants met his gaze with an excited look. “I can handle it from here, Boss! Please, go ahead and talk to Kino-san.”

Naozumi narrowed his eyes and studied his staff critically. Ever since they found out that Makoto was the owner and head chef of the now famous - at least in the local catering sphere - Red Rose Catering, his employees had been very attentive whenever Makoto appeared.

Normally, he would’ve found some amusement in the antics of his staff, but with the harsh reminder that she was marrying another man, he couldn’t help but find himself irritated at their sly looks. He gave his assistant a small glare and pursed his lips. “Did she ask for me?”

His bland response seemed to surprise his employees. He ignored them as he picked up a pastry bag and began adding toppings on several small cakes. 

“Well...no, she’s in line....” the counter clerk said, sounding confused. 

Naozumi pretended nothing was amiss. “We’re in the middle of a rush. If she doesn’t ask for me, then she’s probably just here to buy a pastry. No need to bother her.” 

“Boss....” The assistant across from him furrowed his brows. “Are you all right?” 

He kept his head lowered, trying to focus on his work and ignoring the heat filling his face. “Of course I’m all right. We’re just busy right now. Mako, I mean, Kino-san is also very busy. I shouldn’t chat her up every time I see her and waste her time.”

He could feel their eyes looking at him. Silently judging. 

“Okay....” The counter clerk shrugged and headed back outside. The rest of the staff inside the kitchen continued in awkward silence. After a few minutes, the door swung open again. “Boss, Kino-san is asking for you!” 

His hand squeezed the pastry bag, sending a small mountain of cream over a small cake. He grit his teeth and tried to calm himself. He had to act rationally. He couldn’t keep meeting up with her and falling further when she was married. It wasn’t her fault, of course; he was sure she just wanted to be friends and catering colleagues, so her attention was innocent. It was him who was having questionable thoughts. 

When he didn’t move from his spot, the lead assistant sighed and looked towards the door. “Tell her that the boss is really busy trying to finish an emergency order. She’ll understand.” 

The counter clerk opened her mouth to confirm the order, but Naozumi placed the pastry bag on the counter and stood up straight. He didn’t need his employees to cover for him. Makoto was a woman, not a loan shark. There was no reason to actively avoid her when they had a working relationship. He just needed to control himself. 

“It’s fine. Tell her to have a seat. I’ll be out in a minute.” 

The clerk’s eyes lit up and she nodded before darting outside. The assistants in the kitchen looked at Naozumi with uncertainty on their faces. “Boss....”  
“Finish up the cakes and bring them out as soon as possible,” he said as he avoided their eyes by taking the messed, cream covered petite cake and placing it on a tray. He headed outside, bringing the cake with him. As he passed the back counter, he snatched a small fork and turned towards the seating area.

His heart skipped a beat as he saw Makoto sitting at ‘their’ table; a small circular table with two chairs against the window, close to the exit door. She was already digging into a torte and scrolling through her phone, distracted and completely ignorant of how she made him feel. 

“You can do it, Boss!” He heard someone whisper behind him. He turned around and saw some of his workers giving him a thumbs up. He squinted his eyes. 

“Get back to work. We’re in a rush period!” They scrambled back to their stations as he shook his head and made his way over to the beautiful, brown-haired chef. “Makoto-san,” he said as he reached her. “Mind if I join you?” 

Her resplendent smile took his breath away and he was both happy he came out and regretful that he did. “Not at all, please have a seat. I realized you were busy after I asked about you and tried to tell them not to bother you, but they already went to ask for you.”

He placed his cake with the massive amount of cream across from her and took a seat. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry I had to make you wait. Did you have any questions or want to talk about an event?”

Naozumi mentally patted himself on the back for expertly leading the conversation towards work. He didn’t seem to notice the questioning look on her face as she eyed the cake. 

“Um...no.” Makoto blinked, seemingly deciding not to point out the cake. She smiled once more. “I just wanted to say hi. I didn’t mean to take you away from work.”

He felt his chest tighten and he paused with his fork over the cake. “Oh....” He didn’t know where to go from here. To fill in the silence he cut into the cake. “The bag ripped and a good amount of cream just poured over this,” he said, shoving a piece into his mouth. He chewed faster than normal and swallowed back, hard. “We couldn’t sell it, so, I figure I might as well eat it.”

She giggled. “As long as it doesn’t go to waste. I’m sure it tastes amazing regardless.”

The way she looked at him with a hint of teasing made his heart slam against his chest and all he could do was focus on his cake. Unfortunately, since it was a petite cake, it was gone in a few bites. 

“Oh, by the way, how was the food?” she asked. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows. 

“Food?”

“From the event at the Hyatt Shinjuku,” she said, looking earnest. “What did you think?” 

“It was delicious!” That was his automatic answer and he wasn’t lying. He’d returned to the bakery after the drop off and silently ate the lunch she prepared with a broken heart. It was delicious, but bitter. “If we cater the same events, you have to save me a plate again.”

Her face lit up, absolutely pleased with his praise and he couldn’t help but soften his gaze. “Of course! I can cook for you whenever you want.” 

His eyes widened. His cheeks heated up and he opened his mouth, but no words came out. What was she saying? Did she know what she was offering him? He frowned a bit. It was a dangerous offer. 

“Makoto-san, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

She tilted her head to the side, her smile dimming a bit and replaced by confusion. “Is something wrong?”

His mind raced to find a suitable excuse. “You spent days over a stove cooking. I couldn’t possibly ask you to spend your free time cooking for me.”  _ Cook for your fiance _ , his mind added. 

Makoto wrinkled her nose. “It’s not a burden or anything. I love cooking, even when I’m not working. Besides, I can always use a professional taste tester.” 

“Isn’t there someone else more fitting to taste your food?” he asked. Like, the man you’re going to marry?

She seemed to think. “My friends always just praise the food and if there is something that can be improved or changed, they don’t know how to explain what it is. I’d ask my colleagues, but I’m a bit embarrassed to present experimental dishes to them.” She paused. “But I trust you. I know you’d tell me the truth and explain any concerns well.” 

His chest was hurting. He knew he should decline any further invitations and offers to spend time with her. “I see....” He paused. “Then, why don’t you drop off your next dish?” He suggested, sitting up straight as the thought occurred to him. “Write down what your concerns are and what your goal is with that dish and I’ll take it to my parents’ to try.”

A gasp left her and her eyes widened. “Your parents?” Her voice was tight. “Aren’t...aren’t your parents Michelin starred chefs?” 

He couldn’t help but crack a smile at her nervous expression. “Makoto-san,” he said, trying to hold back a smile. “I’m  _ also  _ a Michelin starred chef.” Her face filled with color and he couldn’t hold back his smile. 

“Yes! Right! I know that!” She looked away and he found her adorable. “What I mean is...I mean...would your parents be willing to taste my dishes?” He could see how worried she was and he nodded. 

“Yes. They still work, but they’re basically half retired right now and when they’re free, they wander around Japan, trying various restaurants that catch their eye. I’m sure they’ll have time and be happy to taste test your cooking.” 

“Wow...if I could get feedback from them....” Makoto said, her eyes wide. She looked up at him. “When can I bring you a dish?”

“Whenever you feel like it. It’s not a rush,” he said. “I’ll let my parents know that I have a friend who’d like their opinion.” 

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you so much, Naozumi-san!”

He nodded. With this, he successfully handed such a responsibility to his parents. He wouldn’t have to spend time with Makoto outside of work events. “You’re welcome. I’m happy to help.”

“I can’t wait to meet your parents!” She lifted up her glass and finished off her drink.

Naozumi’s pleased nodding came to a halt. “Wait...meet my parents?” 

Alarms went off in his head and he wasn’t sure why, but he knew this was even more dangerous than simply going over to her place and tasting her experimental dishes. Makoto nodded. 

“Yes, I can’t wait! Geez, now I’m nervous. What should I make?” She lifted her hand and scratched the side of her head. “Are your parents fine with Western dishes?”

“Uh...yes-”

“Great, I have this recipe I’ve been thinking about making.” Makoto opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped. Her eyes were wide as she jerked to the side to look past him, out the window. Confused by her sudden change of demeanor, Naozumi turned around to try to catch a glimpse of what she was looking at, only to hear the scrape of the chair legs against the bakery floor as Makoto shot up.

“I have to go!” Her voice was breathless as she grabbed her jacket and swung it over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and rushing out. 

Naozumi immediately rose to his feet and turned to follow her, but stopped as she ran out the exit door. He narrowed his eyes and quickened his steps to get to the door and peered out of the glass. 

He couldn’t hear her, but she had somehow made it across the street and was raising her arms and yelling. He saw a tall man with glasses raise his arms in a sort of universal signal that he wasn’t hurting anyone. A black-haired young woman was between them and Makoto had rushed over and nearly grabbed her and pulled her into a protective embrace. 

At once, Naozumi was out the door.

She was shouting at the man with a look of fury on her face as the young woman lifted a hand to try to calm her. From what he heard, she was telling the man with the glasses to stay away. Makoto still looked angry as the other woman, who appeared to be her friend, turned and looked at the man with an icy expression. He lowered his arms and shook his head, but the two women turned and left in a hurry.

Naozumi scrambled to catch up, but by the time he’d managed to cross the street without being hit by a car, Makoto and the other woman turned the corner and disappeared from view. He sped up, almost running, as he rounded the corner, unable to quell the tight grip around his heart as worry filled him.

He saw her down the street, still with her arm protectively over the other woman as they headed to a building near-by. He couldn’t stop himself.

“Makoto-san!” She turned around, her thick, brown hair waving around her as she looked for whoever called her name. The two women stopped and an apologetic look filled her face. She looked at the other woman, who gave her a nod, before she rushed towards him. 

“Naozumi-san, I’m sorry for rushing out-”

“Are you all right?” he asked before she could even finish. He held his breath as she stopped in front of him. He fought back his urge to touch her and make sure she was safe. She looked a bit surprised, but nodded. Her worried eyes glanced back at her friend. 

“Yes.” She let out a breathy confirmation and he closed his eyes. His heart began to settle and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“Good...good....” 

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” she said. “I saw my friend across the street and...well, you probably saw what happened. That guy can’t stop bothering her.” She said the last sentence with some anger.

Naozumi didn’t pry. He only nodded. “As long as you’re safe. Next time, take me with you. What if he had gotten violent?” 

“I have a black belt in karate and judo.” Even as she said this, she smiled a bit. “But, thank you, Naozumi-san. For being worried....”

He didn’t know what else to say. He simply nodded and took a step back. “Then...are you going to be all right getting home?”

She nodded. “Yeah...she parked in the underground lot. I’ll take her home and then head back to my apartment.”

“Okay. Call me when you get home.” 

She blushed. “Okay. See you around.”

She seemed to shyly look away before reaching her friend. Her friend immediately leaned in and began whispering, glancing back at him a few times. Naozumi let out a heavy breath and turned around. He made it several steps back to his bakery when he froze. 

“Call me when you get home...?” He muttered to himself. He lifted a hand and slapped his forehead, running his hand down his dumb face. Wasn’t he supposed to be _ avoiding _ getting close to Makoto? “Ugh...I’m just as stupid as Kouichi....”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” an irritated voice asked from his right as he reached the corner. He turned to the side and saw Kouichi standing there in a dark gray trench coat, frowning.

“What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at Zen’s place later?”

“I took off early from work,” he said, avoiding Naozumi’s eyes.

Naozumi gave him some side eye. “That’s not like you.” 

“I can’t help it! I didn’t know how to answer her!” Kouichi said, scowling. Naozumi rolled his eyes. 

“So you ran away?” A sharp glare bore into him. “Just have a seat and wait for me to finish the last batch of pastries,” he said as he crossed the street. “We’ll head over to Zen’s when I’m done.”

“Did Junya tell you what it was about?” 

Naozumi shook his head. “No, why? Did he tell you?”

Kouichi’s jaw clenched. “It’s about his father.” 

* * *

Junya pressed the doorbell and waited to hear the ‘click’ sound that notified him that the door was unlocked. As soon as he heard it, he stepped inside. In the entryway, there was a pair of mens shoes and a pair of small, women’s shoes. Judging from the voices coming from inside, Mamoru had arrived. 

And the simple brown, lace up booties with the small heels probably belonged to Mizuno-sensei. He let out a heavy breath and looked at the paper bag of tea cakes and can of tea he’d bought at that fancy tea shop he’d gone to with Rei. Since he had personally asked Mizuno-sensei to come and answer any medical-related questions to ease his brothers’ minds.

He walked into the living room and saw that Zen was hobbling around on his crutch while Mamoru sat on the couch, asking how mobile he felt. 

“Oh, you’re here,” Zen said, casually giving him a look. “Earlier than I expected. Kouichi and Naozumi are running late.”

“That’s fine. I brought tea and tea cakes,” Junya said, lifting the bag. He looked around and saw Mizuno-sensei seated at the dining room table, with a laptop open and looking incredibly concentrated. “Ah...Mizuno-sensei. Good evening!”

She lifted her head at the sound of his voice and stood up calmly. “Akashi-san, good evening.”

Junya placed the bag on the table and gave her a bow. “Thank you for taking time to come and answer any questions.”

“Of course. I’m happy to be of assistance.”

“Wait...what do you mean come?” Zen frowned. He stopped circling the living room and looked over at him. “Junya...are you ill?”  
Junya took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He shook his head. “No, but...just wait until Kou and Nao get here. I’ll explain everything.”

Zen looked over at Mizuno-sensei, who was walking into the kitchen with the paper bag. “Sensei, I thought you were staying to give instruction to them about my crutches?”

He made his way over to the kitchen and found her heating up water in the electric kettle Kouichi had gotten him for his instant ramen. “That is part of it, but Akashi-san had asked for my medical expertise.”

Zen and Mamoru both looked at Junya, who was avoiding their eyes. A faint look of concern filled Mamoru’s face. “Junya....”

“It’s not me who’s sick,” he said, trying to look assured. Mamoru and Zen clearly did not believe him. He let out a deep breath. “Really. I’m fine. Mizuno-sensei?” 

“It is not Akashi-san who is ill. I had examined his test results. Akashi-san is at the peak of health.” She walked out of the kitchen. “Would you like to discuss Isono-san’s progress before you start?” 

“We should at least wait for Kouichi-” Mamoru began, just as the doorbell rang. Zen glanced at his phone and the app to the camera showed two men standing at the door. 

“Mamo-kun, buzz them in.” 

The Kouichi and Naozumi walked in and dutifully removed their shoes, changing into a pair of gray and dark red house slippers before entering the living area, arguing about something. However, as soon as they saw Mizuno-sensei, their mouth’s snapped shut. 

A look of worry filled Kouichi’s face and before he could blurt out his fears, Naozumi spoke up. “Good evening, Mizuno-sensei. Is everything all right?”

Mizuno-sensei nodded her head and looked over at Junya. He took a deep breath and took a seat beside Mamoru, motioning for the two eldest of the group to also take a seat. Kouichi sat on Mamoru’s otherside while Naozumi took a seat on the armchair adjacent to him. Zen made his way to his spot - the armchair across from Naozumi. 

Mizuno-sensei said nothing as she helped him sit down, careful of his crutches. “Before Akashi-san begins, I want to update everyone on Isono-san’s condition.” She looked at the group behind clear glasses, looking extremely professional standing at Zen’s side. The group nodded and she continued. She smiled a bit. “First, let me assure everyone that his recovery is going very well. Today, as you can see, he has transitioned to crutches. The next step is to arrange his physical therapy.”

The group of men looked relieved at this and sent a proud looking Zen smiles. Mizuno-sensei gave a summarized report of what Zen would go through next, possible difficulties, as well as recommendations. She also pointed out what to look for in a physical therapist and looked at Mamoru as she suggested the office where Tsukino-san worked.

Zen immediately said no. 

Mamoru frowned. “Why not? It’s close enough and you will be working with someone you know.”

“Because if I go to Tsukino-san's office, you four will be shadowing over me like you do now,” Zen said, the corner of his lip twitching.

“What are you talking about?” Kouichi sent him a glare. Zen lifted his good hand and motioned to Mizuno-sensei, who raised a brow. 

“Look at her! Because you’re familiar, you guys are able to monitor me like I’m some critically ill person,” he said. 

“Yes, and?” Kouichi said, squinting. “I don’t see this as a problem. It just means we have less to worry about because we can trust your doctor.”

“Mizuno-sensei, we really can’t thank you enough,” Naozumi added, giving her a nod. 

She gave him a small nod of her head. “In the end, Isono-san should be able to choose a physical therapist he is most comfortable with. If you’d like, I can accompany him once I have a few more solid recommendations in place.”

The group didn’t even bother thinking over the offer before they nodded, unanimously agreeing. Zen pouted. 

“Thank you, Ami-san,” Mamoru said, looking relieved. Junya nodded as well, but glanced at Mamoru. He almost wanted to smile; didn’t Mamoru know that they could only have such a helpful acquaintance because of him and his fiance? 

“It’s not a problem,” Mizuno-sensei said. She took a step back and looked at Junya. “Akashi-san, I understand you have additional things to say. I will occupy myself in the kitchen until needed.” 

Junya sat up straight at her cue and the other four men looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and concern. As soon as the blue-haired doctor took her laptop and disappeared into the kitchen to give them their privacy, Junya faced his brothers. He held his breath and braced himself. 

“My father’s kidneys are failing and he needs a transplant.”

He dove right into it. At first, there was a moment of tense silence as the other four men let that knowledge sink in. One by one, Junya watched their faces as they drew the conclusion he knew they’d come to. 

“No!” Kouichi, as expected, was the first to react outloud. A dark look graced his face as glared. “How dare he! After what he did to you? After what he did to your mother? He dares to come back to ask for such a thing!” 

Mamoru put a hand on his shoulder to try to calm him as Kouichi visibly shook with fury. Zen’s jaw was clenched tight. His good arm was resting on the armrest of the chair and his pale, slender fingers were clawing into the cream leather material. 

“I’ve never met such a shameless piece of trash,” Zen said, anger lacing his every word.

“You haven’t agreed, have you?” Naozumi asked, leaning forward with his brows knit together. “You can’t agree to this, Junya.”

“I agree,” Mamoru said. There was a shadow across his face and Junya was a bit surprised that he agreed so easily. “I know he’s your father, but this....” He trailed off and looked away, as if unable to explain his reasoning and only knowing that for Junya’s bastard father to ask his estranged son for a kidney was not only shameless, but wrong. 

Junya looked at their expectant gazes and, despite their anger and resentment at the situation, he was touched that they cared so much about him. He shook his head.

“I haven’t agreed.” They collectively let out a breath of relief, but he continued one. “But I have taken a test to see if we’re a match.”

“What?” Zen looked at him as if he were crazy.

“Junya!” Disapproval could be seen all over Kouichi’s face and Junya raised a hand to calm him. 

“He wouldn’t stop harassing me about at least taking a test to see if we match,” Junya said. 

“Doesn’t he have two other children with his mistress?” Zen said, narrowing his eyes. “Let him harvest one of theirs!”

“Zen, they’re still minors,” Junya said. “And, also...they aren’t matches.”

“How can that be?” Mamoru frowned. “Did he just say that-”

“It’s their age,” Junya said. “The age difference is a problem and since I’m closer in age to that old bastard....” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Not to mention that he’d never touch a hair on those kids’ heads. They actually came to my agency to beg me to save him. Can you believe that? Do they have any idea what kind of man their father is?” 

Naozumi stared at the coffee table. “I understand that they want to save their father, but this choice is up to you, Junya. If you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.” 

Junya raised a brow. “He’ll die without a transplant. His mistress doesn’t work. He squanders so much money and his businesses all fail, do you think he has any saved that will support those kids?” He took a deep breath and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “I hate him. No one hates him more than me. If he died, I wouldn’t care, but those kids...even if I don’t like them, it unsettles me that they’re in this position.”  
“Junya, your father’s children are not your responsibility,” Naozumi said in a firm voice. “You are two separate families.”

Junya pursed his lips for a moment. “Nao...I had to watch my mother slowly die from an illness - a disease.” He lifted his eyes to look at his friends. “I don’t know if I can wish that on another child.” 

The four men went quiet. No matter how angry or upsetting this all was, no matter how much Junya hated his father or found his half-siblings annoying, the memory of his mother wasting away before passing still lingered with him. At the very least, he was financially secure. He had a close support system that comforted and guided him. He was an adult when his mother passed and even he had regrets. 

What would a high schooler and middle schooler who’d only been supported and sheltered by their father their entire lives do without the old bastard? 

“What are the risks?” He lifted his head. Kouichi was still glaring at the space in front of him, his hands clenched until they were white. 

“Mizuno-sensei,” Junya called out, looking towards the kitchen. He looked at the others. “When he approached me, I reached out to Mizuno-sensei with some questions. I asked her not to inform anyone, as I explained my situation and was still thinking. She connected me to some peers who were experts on the subject, but she can answer your basic questions best.”

“I had him come in to do the test to check for a match,” Mizuno-sensei said as she came out with some cups at hot water. 

“I can get the tea, Mizuno-sensei. Please, take a seat,” Naozumi said as he stood up and motioned for her to take his place. She gave him a nod and switched places. Naozumi went to prepare the tea cakes and tea that Junya brought. 

“There are always risks involved in surgery and while the risk of death for a kidney transplant donor isn’t large, it’s not zero.” She began to go through the long term risks, as well as explain the procedure itself. “Akashi-san’s health and age does make him the best viable option.” 

Kouichi ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this....”

“Ami-san,” Mamoru said, leaning forward and looking serious. “If Junya goes through with this, what else can be done to increase his chances of survival.”

“The skill of the surgeon and the ability of the facility where he will have the surgery and recover post-op does play a role. I wouldn’t brush off the ability of a reputable surgeon,” she said. She looked at Junya. “The two colleagues I introduced you to are specialists in the field. We studied together and if you do wish to go through with this, they have assured me that they will have their best transplant team on stand-by for you. We can also make arrangements to have it done at the university hospital. Our staff and facilities are one of the best in the country.”

“Thank you, Mizuno-sensei,” Kouichi said, covering his face in his hands before sighing and giving her a bow of his head. “As much as I’m against this, what you’ve told us and the assistance you’re giving us....”

She lifted a hand, accepting the tea cup Naozumi served to her with a nod. She looked at the others. 

“If it were one of my friends, I would spare no expense either,” she said. She took a sip of her tea. “What are your thoughts on this, Akashi-san?”

“I’m grateful for your assistance, Mizuno-sensei. All the information and guidance you’ve given me - us - is immeasurable,” Junya told her, relieved that he had experts on his side. He looked at his brothers as they reached for the tea cakes that Naozumi set out. “I took the test to check for a match, but I haven’t notified my father yet. I know that the moment I tell him, he’ll want to do it immediately and I wanted to prepare myself first. For one, I wanted to get more information.” He looked at Mizuno-sensei and gave her a small bow. “For another, I wanted to prepare myself for the worst.”

“Don’t say such a thing,” Zen said, frowning. He stopped eating his tea cake. “With Ami-san here, you’ll have the best care. Look, she’s even arranging the best specialists and hospital for you.” 

“That’s another thing,” Junya said. “My father has already selected a surgeon and hospital. He wants to have it done at a hospital close to his home in Funabashi so he can recover close to his family.” He didn’t notice the doctor’s head lift up. 

“He has some gall!” Kouichi scowled, almost slamming his tea cup on the table. “He’s demanding you give him a kidney and before you can even answer, he’s waiting to cut you up? I swear I’ll-”

“Kou-chan, calm down,” Mamoru said, looking concerned. “It does make sense that he’d want to recover closer to home.”

“But why go to some second rate hospital instead of a first rate one?” Kouichi demanded. “Does he want to lessen their chances or something? He’d rather it be convenient than safe?”

“Ami-san, already said that a doctor’s skill and the hospital’s ability does play a small factor in safety,” Zen said in a critical voice. “Wouldn’t it make sense to then have the surgery at the university hospital with specialists?” 

“I think you should demand it,” Naozumi said, his lips tight. “After all, it’s you who’s saving his life. He is in no place to make any demands.”  
Junya nodded. “I talked it over with a lawyer and she pointed out the same thing. I don’t want to have the operation in Funabashi. I don’t know the doctor. I don’t know the team. I don’t even know the reputation of the hospital.” 

“That’s right,” Mamoru agreed. “At the university hospital, you are more familiar.” 

“Regardless,” Junya said. He shook his head, deciding that he needed to inform the others of the will. “I know that if I do this, there is still a risk. As such, I spoke to a reputable lawyer.” He took a deep breath. “I made a will.” The other four looked at him and he exhaled slowly. “And you four are my heirs.” 

“What?” Kouichi sat up straight. “Junya-”

“You know I still have a lot of money,” Junya said. “I liquidated what I can, but I still have investments, not to mention my earnings working in entertainment. I don’t have any children. If I die...who would it all go to?”

Mamoru lowered his eyes. “Your father.” 

Junya nodded. “My father. I don’t want him to get a single yen if something happens to me. I had the law office and my accountant gather all the necessary information and I’ve named you my heirs. Should anything happen to me, I can rest knowing he won’t be able to rob my grave.” 

While he knew no one wanted to think about his death, he also knew the other four hated his father was just as much passion as he did and didn’t want the man to benefit from Junya’s death. Without a word, they accepted the arrangement. 

“Do you need anything from us?” Kouichi asked. 

“I’ve given the lawyer your information. You'll be called in the following days if anything is needed.”

“Junya-kun,” Mamoru said. He looked hesitant. “Is it possible to have another lawyer double check your will? I know you said they’re reputable, but I also know a good lawyer we can trust.” 

Junya thought about it for a moment. “If you’re certain, I can ask the Takamura Law Office to set up a meeting.”

This time, he noticed Mizuno-sensei’s head perk up and he wondered if she had something to say. He watched her eyes dart to the paper bag with the tea shop’s logo and then down at the tray of half eaten tea cakes on the coffee table. 

“Mamoru-san, I don’t think you need to recommend a lawyer to him,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. Junya furrowed his brow. She lifted her eyes, looking somewhat amused, as if she had stumbled on to a secret. “Rei is already taking care of it, isn’t she?” 

Junya’s eyes went wide and he sat up straight on the couch, looking at the doctor with surprise. “Mizuno-sensei, you know Hino-sensei?”

“Oh, Rei-san’s taking care of it.” Mamoru seemed relieved as he leaned back and smiled. “Nevermind then.”

“We’ve been friends since middle school; we met at an inter-school event,” Mizuno-sensei said with a smile. “And I received a call from her earlier today. She asked me to look up hospitals in Funabashi.” 

Junya’s mouth dropped a bit. “She...she asked you to...?” His heart quickened. 

Rei had seemed very professional about this. She didn’t seem that she’d do something unnecessary as asking her friend to do research for him. 

“I’ve just started my research, so it may take a few days,” Mizuno-sensei told him. “But I’ll send you both what I find. You’re very lucky to be working with Rei, Akashi-san. She’s an elite in her field.” She paused. “However, the fact that she asked me to look this up means she has some concerns.”

“Concerns?” Kouichi looked over at the first sign of danger. “What do you mean?”

Mizuno-sensei seemed to pause for a moment to properly explain. She put her tea cup down. “Rei, and her entire firm, deal with high profile clients. There are many powerful and prestigious families that go to the Takamura Law Office and she has told us multiple times that there are plenty of people who have their wills and trusts done because they don’t trust their own families, as the case for Akashi-san. 

“She’s faced circumstances that she felt were suspicious and family members who were more than pleased that someone died. I don’t want to alarm anyone, but the more I learn about this, the more I can understand her caution,” Ami said. “Akashi-san is wealthy. His estranged father doesn’t seem to be financially sound. His two other children aren’t considered, even if they are willing. He has a doctor and hospital all coordinated for a transplant when the donor has yet to consent and has been harassing Akashi-san to do so. No matter how one looks at the situation....”

Junya narrowed his eyes. He clenched his jaw and his face became cold. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

He stood up and walked across the living room, to the entryway. Everyone watched as he held his phone to his ear. 

He suddenly stopped pacing. “What is the name of the hospital and doctor who will oversee the transplant?” Those in the living room could barely hear the loud man’s voice on the other end and couldn’t make out the words. Junya’s cold look never left his face. “I didn’t say I’d do it. I’m asking you a question.” His voice lowered. “ _ What is the name of the hospital and doctor who will do the procedure _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Zoi calling our doctor 'Ami-san' all of a sudden?   
> Who was that man Makoto and Rei were arguing with and is Makoto going to meet Neph's parents? (We all know where this is going....)  
> Will Kunz take up Minako's offer?   
> And is Jadeite's father trying to off him for money? 
> 
> See you next time~~~


End file.
